


Sister Wives

by Rated_Ian



Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997)
Genre: (specifically Grant), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Cults, BDSM, Bisexual Female Character, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Breeding, Christianity, Cults, Cunnilingus, Dinosaurs, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Characters, Femdom, Fundamentalists, Fundies, Husband Sharing, Impregnation, Light BDSM, Male Pleasure, Maledom, Maledom/Femsub, Marriage, Marriage of Convenience, Moaning, Mormonism, Multi, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Nipples, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Out of Character, POV Alternating, POV Original Female Character, Paddling, Polyamory, Polygamy, Power Dynamics, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Puffy Nipples, Rope Bondage, Spanking, Tagging the shit out of this bc we worked so hard on it, Teasing, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Sex, Whipping, please be kind to our child, this was literally a year in the making
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7499832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rated_Ian/pseuds/Rated_Ian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ian Malcolm and his two girlfriends flee the public eye after the San Diego Incident, they end up getting far more than they bargained for when they seek shelter in a dinosaur-worshipping, polygamist compound in the middle of the desert. Ian/OC/OC; Alan/Ellie/OC/OC/OC/OC/OC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One (Alice)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a long-standing project of Last Mrs. Malcolm's and Bakuzan Sickle Claw's; the tag is true, we have been working on this for a year, and we welcome any feedback or suggestions! We don't own Ian, Alan or Ellie, but we own our many OCs.
> 
> Please comment and provide feedback!

The world really isn't so small after all.

Not when you're fleeing civilization, anyway. It sure feels like you could drive forever.

Reaching for the water bottle in my purse, I took note that it was the last one.

"Ian," I turned to him. "We are going to have to stop somewhere soon."

"We're not stopping until we hit the border," insisted Ian. He didn't take his eyes off the road. “Everybody in the States knows my face. They’ll—they’ll recognize us anywhere.”

I did not doubt that after the Incident had caused his face to be plastered all over television again—although this time for a different reason—Ian was right. Glancing backwards and catching Laura's eye, we exchanged a frown. 

"That's not going to work with two women in the car. Eventually, one of us is going to need the washroom and unlike you, Ian, we are not going by the side of the road."

"We're not even out of Utah. Hell, or we could be, I don’t know _where_ we are," Laura said, and I sighed; she’d grown up in the US and knew the area better, and if she thought we were lost, we were as good as marooned. She leaned forward in her seat and swatted Ian's arm. "Next time we see any sign of life, we’re stopping! Better yet, we could stop around that highway sign we passed a little bit back. I swear I saw a Western banded gecko, I’d put money on it."

“Not the best time to look for specimens, honey,” Ian said, the strain in his voice evident despite his attempts to sound calm for us.

“All right, all right, but you’ve been driving for three hours. If you won’t stop for the bathroom, stop for your sanity.”

"Two against one, we win," I settled back into my seat and scanned the horizon for a building, a sign, a tree with live leaves...

***

The car had been silent for a little over an hour. Ian remained tense but quiet, and Laura was nodding off in the seat beside me. I was fantasizing about drinking a delicious iced coffee, when something caught my eyes at the side of the road.

"A sign!” I nudged Ian’s back. “It's a town! Take that exit, Ian!"

Ian mumbled something about backseat drivers, but he steered the red convertible into the right lane, snapping Laura awake. We passed an old, dirty sign that read "Phoenix".

 _Odd to name a tiny place in the middle of nowhere after the capital of the state,_ I thought. The exit took us on to a small gravel road, where the sounds of the highway faded and were replaced by an eerie silence.

As we advanced slowly along the road, I pulled out and unfolded a road map. "I don't know where we are," I admitted. "I don’t see Phoenix here— I mean, this Phoenix-- maybe it’s too small.”

Laura leaned forward and took the map from my hands. She studied it for a moment, then frowned. 

"I'm not sure either. Maybe we can find someone here to ask."

Ian raised a hand off the steering wheel and shook a finger at us emphatically. "We're gonna find a, uh, general store and then be on our way south via the main highway." We were beginning to pass structures – mostly dilapidated barns, silos, and boarded-up houses.

"It would be nice to know where the hell we are," I snapped. Ian shot me a warning glance in response.

Turning my attention back to the road, I spotted some figures ahead. "Look! People!"

Both Ian and Laura craned their necks to see what I saw. A small group of children played on the road just ahead of us. They kicked around a battered old football. The oldest in the group could not have been older than five or six.

Ian slowed the car, stopping it as the kids moved to the side for us to pass. He rolled down the window and smiled at them.

"Hey, kids." Ian indicated the direction in which we'd been traveling. "This the way to your town?"

The three children stared back at Ian silently. It was then that I noticed something odd about them. All three wore similar, slightly old-fashioned-looking clothing. They all had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. The oldest, a girl, wore a long French braid that went halfway down her back. 

She broke the silence. "Yes, it is," she said solemnly. "But you'll have to talk to my daddy if you want to go into town."

Ian's eyebrows shot up. Laura and I exchanged a worried glance. I was beginning to get an inkling of what Phoenix might be, and so was Laura.

Driving for a few more minutes, we finally came across a building that did not look abandoned: it was a huge temple with colorful stained-glass windows. The sign identified it as the Holy Temple of the Blessed Chosen. How did such a barren place need such a big temple? Laura craned her neck to look at the structure, squinting her eyes, and then expressions of shock and disbelief passed over her face. I gave her an inquiring look, and she shook her head as if to say, “It was nothing.”

I had barely had time to wonder who the Blessed Chosen were when I realized that we had reached Phoenix. The landscape was occupied by humble single-family homes, most of which had seen better days. Many of the overgrown lawns and unfinished driveways were strewn with children's toys. The homes were drab grey and off-white colors with tired, pale accents. Few people were around. It did not escape my notice that most of those we saw out and about were men. Like the children, they dressed similarly; they wore button-down work shirts, khakis, boots, and cowboy hats. 

Turning to look behind me, I caught Laura's eye. I was now certain about where we'd found ourselves. Did Ian know?

Ian was distracted, looking around as we navigated the gravel slowly. "Do you ladies see anywhere to stop?" 

There was not a single convenience store, or even a Coca-Cola sign anywhere. There were two men leaning up against the side of one of the drab buildings, though, and growing impatient, Ian stopped the car in front of them.

Curious about the intruders in their midst, the men came around to Ian's window.

"Afternoon, gentlemen," Ian greeted them with no trace of sarcasm or snark. He knew we were in foreign territory.

Neither man spoke, but they both narrowed their eyes at Ian. He cast me a quick glance, and I shrugged. Ian sighed and unbuckled his seat belt, stepping out of the car.

Ian's tall, lanky figure and black outfit cut a strong contrast with the two men in prairie clothes. He offered them a hand and shook one, then the other.

"We’re, uh, passing through the area on our way down south," Ian explained just as much as he was comfortable revealing. I could hear the wariness in his voice, as if he expected the men to yell at any minute that Ian was the man they’d seen on the news, talking about dinosaurs and subsequently being ridiculed. "We were hoping to find a place to stop and stock up on supplies. Is there somewhere you—you fine folks shop for shampoo and groceries?"

The older-looking man finally spoke. "Nothin' like that in Phoenix," he shook his head slowly.

"We're a closed community," the younger man put in.

Frustrated by the conversation, I turned around to Laura. "I don't think he realizes what this place is..."

"Lots of these places in the Deep South," Laura replied. "Let's help him out."

Both Laura and I stepped out of the car, interrupting the men's conversation. The two men in cowboy hats shifted their attention immediately to us.

We'd been driving along the open highway in the southwest US in August, and the weather was scorching. I wore a red spaghetti-strap tank top with a short tennis skirt and wedge heel sandals, and Laura wore a white sleeveless blouse and navy blue cut-offs, with sandals as well. Normally these were the clothes we felt the most comfortable in, but with the way the two strange men were looking at us, I couldn’t help but feel like what we were wearing was the target of their hostile expressions.

I put my unease aside for the moment. "Hello, gentlemen," I said brightly, stepping around the front of the car to join them. "Very sorry to disturb you. We are just looking for somewhere to refill our water bottles and use the restroom. Would you be able to help us with that?"

The men silently stared at me, then Laura, then finally at Ian with renewed suspicion. There was something else in the older one's expression, but it was unreadable to me. He raised a hand, tipping his hat back.

"I think y'all better go talk to the Prophet," the older man said slowly. He waited for a reaction.

Laura spoke before Ian could respond. "The... Prophet?"

The older man glared at Laura, then addressed Ian. "She your woman?"

Ian was still trying to process the fact that there was a "Prophet" whom we were en route to see. Taken aback by the man's personal question, he faltered a moment before answering. "Yes." He turned and indicated me with a wave, catching my eye briefly. "They're both, uh... my women."

Suppressing a smile, I looked at Laura. She'd caught that too.

The men led us further down the gravel road on foot. I was unsure if I should speak or if it was better to keep quiet. I followed Ian's lead and stayed silent. As we passed the structures – it was difficult to call them houses— I realized that there were signs of a lot of life around us. It was just hidden behind these walls.

"If we have any hope of getting what we need to go on," Laura had fallen into stride with Ian, “it’ll be this 'Prophet' guy that helps us."

Ian snorted. "Of all the places we stop— we find a crazy Bible-thumping cult town..."

"A compound," I put in. Those years of binge-watching _Big Love_ were now proving immensely helpful. "It's a self-sufficient compound. That's why they have no stores." Ian opened his mouth to respond, but when he saw the older man ahead glance over his shoulder, checking on us, he wisely said nothing.

Soon after, we arrived at a slightly less dilapidated structure, in that you could tell it had once been a lovely family home. Like the other buildings in Phoenix, it exuded an air of being rundown and tired. "Y'all wait here with JimBob while I see if the Prophet is available to speak with you." The older man disappeared into the house, leaving the four of us in still more uncomfortable silence. Damn! Another lost opportunity to have discussed the situation amongst ourselves.

The rusty door protested as the man opened it partway to lean out."Prophet'll see y'all - come on in."

Suddenly I felt a rising anxiety, but it was calmed as Ian placed a steadying hand on my back. He guided us both up the front steps. "Ladies first."

We followed the man into the darkened front hallway. The interior was only slightly less shabby than the exterior. The space felt crowded, with toys and clothes in various piles on the floor, and the walls were too busy with garish religious paintings and paintings of dinosaurs. _Dinosaurs?_

Ian and Laura saw the same painting I did. It would have been comical, to see all three of us do a simultaneous double take. Luckily our friend did not notice. He'd stopped outside what appeared to be a study, gesturing for us to follow him inside. The man seated at the desk also wore a cowboy hat.

"Your Holiness, I bring you ... the Second Dinosaur Man."

Startled by the old man's words, the Prophet lifted his head from his paperwork to see what his disciple claimed to have dragged in. The Prophet's eyes widened at the same moment Ian exclaimed, "Dr Grant!"


	2. Chapter Two (Laura)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grant's a little Flanderized for the sake of comedy. You've been warned.

A moment of pure, dead silence hung in the air. For possibly the first time in his life, Ian appeared to be speechless, and so was the Prophet. I exchanged an uneasy glance with Alice while the two men just stood and stared at each other, jaws hanging open. Finally, they spoke at the same time, the Prophet murmuring, “Ian,” and Ian shouting, “The Prophet?!”

The Prophet guy, whoever he was, sat silently and watched as Ian proceeded to burst out laughing. He had to grab the edge of the Prophet’s desk for support as he nearly screamed with laughter, managing to gasp out, “King of the fundies… fundie prophet… oh, this is good…”

The Prophet’s face had had an unreadable expression on it a moment ago, but it instantly hardened and the man straightened up in his chair. “We don’t appreciate those kinds of terms here.”

“What, ‘fundie’?” Ian snorted, wiping a tear out of his eye. “Oh, that’s rich. You looked around lately? This—this place is straight out of a police report. What made you go fundie, Alan? Science not take you seriously anymore?”

“If you keep speaking like that, I’m afraid you won’t be welcome here for very long,” the Prophet said coldly. He paused for a moment and looked behind Ian, and the moment his eyes hit Alice and me, I felt like a bug under a microscope. The Prophet—Alan?—furrowed his brow. “Ian, who are these… these…loose women?”

I looked at Alice and raised an eyebrow in shock; she just shook her head, as if she’d expected this. “Loose?” I repeated incredulously.

“This is your husband’s business, ma’am,” the Prophet said immediately. “Didn’t you teach her not to interrupt men, Ian? I thought you would be better with wives by now.”

Alice looked like a laugh would burst out of her at any moment, and Ian shook his head. “No, no, Alan. This is Alice,” he motioned behind him, “and this is Laura. They’re my girlfriends.”

“You’re not married to either of these women?” the Prophet said slowly.

“Of course not. Could you pick just one of ‘em?” Ian answered, throwing a smirk back at both of us. Despite the circumstances, I rolled my eyes.

The Prophet shook his head. “This won’t do. Not if you plan to stay here. I can’t allow you to live in my town while you’re living in sin with these women.”

Ian stiffened. “Are you kicking us out? We’ve, uh, driven for miles and we have nowhere else to go, but you’re throwing us out ‘cause I have _girlfriends_? If you want us just to go somewhere that isn’t Crazytown--”

“No!” the Prophet said, and then in a calmer voice, “You are welcome to stay for as long as possible. I only take issue with you and your women being unmarried—we abide by Biblical morals in this town, and if you were… together with women out of the bonds of marriage, it would set a terrible example.”

“So what you’re saying,” Ian said, “is that we can stay if we get married?”

“That’s right. You’d be quite welcome, in fact. We have a spare home right now that would be ideal for a family your size.”

Ian paused, crossing his arms and staring at the floor, and I looked over at Alice. Like Ian, she looked deep in thought, but a tiny grin seemed to be growing on her face. I tried to catch her gaze, and when she finally looked at me, I saw the glimmer in her eye that usually meant that an idea was brewing, and nobody could do anything to stop it. I looked away and stared pleadingly at Ian’s back, willing him not to jump into anything too drastic. He and Alice were always the type of people to jump on opportunities first and worry about the consequences later, and if both of them had the idea in their minds that we were going to stay here with this Prophet guy, it looked like we would be in over our heads.

“Let us have a few minutes alone, Alan,” Ian said finally. “We’ll talk it over.”

“Of course,” Alan/Prophet said, pulling out his chair and exiting his desk. “Take as long as you need. Remember, if you decide to stay, we have plenty of food and a place to sleep for you. And, of course, we’ll have you for as long as you’d like.” He paused before he opened the door, and then turned and briefly smiled at Ian. “I promise you won’t want to leave.” He strode out, shutting the door behind him.

Both of us turned on Ian at the same time, and all three of us spoke at once. “Let’s do it!” Alice cried excitedly. “Haven’t we been waiting for this?”

“I know this is a bit sudden—” Ian started.

“Is there really nowhere else we could go?” I asked.

“—but desperate times call for desperate measures—”

Alice was beaming. “Don’t you see it? Haven’t we been looking for a way for both of us to marry him?”

“I’m a bit more comfortable with a civil union than living in a cult,” I said, already starting to jitter nervously.

“—and I’ve gotta say, uh, I’d rather get married to you two than be refugees in Mexico—”

“Where else could we go?” Alice said. “We’ve got a good place to stay and we can marry Ian here. Even just for a day or two. Can’t we give it a try?”

“I—I guess,” I said uneasily.

“—so how about it? Will you girls marry me?”

I turned my attention from Alice. “What kind of a proposal is that?” I asked half-jokingly.

“Oh, right.” Ian dropped to one knee in what looked almost like a practiced movement-- - had he been preparing for this?—took both of our hands and solemnly asked, “Laura, Alice, I love both of you with all of my heart, and I can’t imagine a future where the three of us can’t be together. Will you ladies do me the honor of being my wives?”

Eyes sparkling, Alice nodded speechlessly, and Ian turned to look at me. I spent a good minute watching the sincere look in his dark brown eyes, biting my lower lip and thinking this over. We had been looking for a way to make a legal arrangement with our relationship ever since we’d agreed that the three of us would more than likely spend our lives together, and the way we acted in our little two-bedroom apartment in Austin, you’d think we were already married anyway. And besides, we were in a fundamentalist compound out in the middle of nowhere—what were the odds that this would be legally binding? If we wanted to stay married afterward, we could always have a proper wedding, but for now, it could be more of a test run. And not an unpleasant one, at that.

“All right,” I said finally, “but I won’t get a beehive hairdo, and there better not just be missionary in the dark for the purpose of procreation, you hear me? And don’t start with a cowboy hat—” A huge smile spread over Ian’s face, and he leapt to his feet and pulled us both into his arms, cutting me off and turning my nervous joke into a giggle.

“Thank you, loves,” he said, kissing Alice’s forehead and then mine, entwining his fingers in my short red hair. “I wouldn’t get rid of this anyway. Although, uh, I can’t make any cowboy hat-related promises—”

“I don’t care,” Alice said, unable to keep the smile off her face. “Wear one to the wedding! Gotta fit in, right?”

“—and I don’t know if you’ve looked in our bags lately, but—but the missionary thing is very low on my list of intentions.”

“One-track mind,” I said, playfully smacking Ian’s arm and feeling the worry that had clenched around my heart begin to dissipate. This couldn’t be so bad, right? Even if my worst fears were confirmed and we did end up here for longer than a day or two, it would be time that I got to spend as an official family with the two people I loved most in the world. Alice might have a good time studying the different social structure they had here, and even though the chances were low that I’d get to practice any kind of science under the Prophet’s watchful eye, there had to be at least a few books and a lizard or two here. I leaned my head against Ian’s chest. “Hate to break up the bridal shower, but who’s this Prophet guy? It looks like you know each other.”

“Oh, oh, I should’ve told you ladies sooner,” Ian said immediately. “That’s Alan Grant.”

“The guy you went to the island with?” Alice asked.

“The same,” he answered. “Hell if I know what—what he’s doing out in the middle of Fundieland USA,much less running it. Y’know, I’d never have guessed he was into any of this, but if he’s running a cult with, uh, dinosaur motifs and where everyone has to listen to him, I’m not surprised.” He brushed his hand against Alice’s cheek. “I can’t figure the guy out, but maybe my psychologist can.”

“Got it. A case study in head-up- the-ass,” she smiled.

“So are we doing this later, or,” I motioned down to my clothes, “am I getting married in something with a formaldehyde stain on it?”

“Looks like we don’t have much of a choice,” Ian said apologetically. “We can always have the real deal when we get out of here and—and settle down somewhere with fewer crosses. You both ready to do this? Or you wanna wait a little while, sit down, see if you can pick some flowers to carry?”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Alice said. “Let’s get married here first and do formalities later, okay? It’s not like we’re inviting our parents or anything.”

“I know,” he said, moving his hands up and down our upper backs. “I just… well, this isn’t quite how I planned the happiest day of my life, y’know?”

“Oh, honey,” I said. “I know. Later, I promise. Right now I just want to eat something that’s not from a wrapper or a gas station, okay? Can you do that for your… for your fiancées?”

“Seconded,” Alice said. “Think of it as eloping in Vegas. So your wives can have somewhere to crash.”

“We’re ready, Alan!” Ian shouted. “Uh, Prophet, I mean—Grant—whatever.” The door swung open as if Grant had been waiting right on the other side, but I only had a second or two to be unsettled by this before he motioned for the three of us to follow him out of the office and into the main building.

“Okay, there are a few arrangements I’ll need to make,” Grant told us, clasping his hands. “I’ll have JimBob take your things into your new home—” I gave Ian a worried glance at this, but he was too focused on nuzzling Alice’s forehead, “—and my first wife will bring your women some appropriate clothes. If you’re looking for something to eat, we’d be more than happy to set up some kind of wedding celebration for you. Perhaps a cookout?”

“Oh God, yes,” Alice said first.

“We’d be thrilled,” Ian added.

“Do you have any fries or salads?” I piped up. “I don’t need much, but, well, I kind of don’t eat meat.”

Grant narrowed his eyes at me. “Be careful with this one, Ian,” he said. “Don’t let Satan’s liberal agenda seep into your home. Speaking of which—” He pulled two white sheets off of a nearby table. “Cover your wives’ shame on the way to the chapel, please.”

Ian pulled off the incredible feat of not laughing aloud at this. “Cover their shame?”

“Only until they can be properly clothed.” Grant held a sheet up in front of me to demonstrate, covering me from the knees to the neck. “We can’t have them walking through the town in these whore clothes, of course. Too great a temptation for the men.”

“Whatever you say,” Ian said, shooting both of us bemused looks as he handed us sheets. I held it in front of me for a moment and looked at it disgustedly—how dare he treat us like this, how dare he act like we were second-class citizens just because we were on his turf and happened to be female—but Ian reached down and wrapped the sheet around my body like a toga. “Not now, honey,” he whispered in my ear. I wanted to glare at him, but decided not to; he knew there was a rant coming later anyway, and it wasn’t like holding in my angry barbs was a new skill to me.

“Excellent,” Grant said. “I’ll head off and organize everything while you’re getting ready. The chapel is right out the back door,” he motioned with his hand, “just follow the stone path. I’ll meet you there as soon as I get everything arranged. In the meantime, Ian, please keep your hands by your sides.”

Ian, who’d been holding Alice’s and my hands and entwining his fingers with ours, stopped. “I can’t even hold their hands?”

“Save it for the honeymoon, please. It won’t be for very long.”

He shrugged. “Guess we’d better get a move on, then.” He moved his hands to the smalls of our backs and guided us out the door.

On our way out, I cheered, “Mrs. Malcolm four and five!”, holding up my hand. When Alice grinned and high-fived me, I glanced back at Grant and made sure he saw me grab her hand for a good few seconds.

He didn’t give the glare I expected, though—he just stared at Ian’s back, looking deep in thought.

We made our way outside and started down a path outlined by large chunks of desert sandstone, squinting in the sudden bright light. Alice started humming the Bridal March, and Ian had a brand-new spring in his step. Instead of focusing on the situation we were digging ourselves into, I busied myself with looking around us, at the dusty cornfields and houses that looked like something straight out of the post-apocalypse. We did attract a few stares, which I would have attributed to their recognition of Ian if Alice and I hadn’t looked like two college girls doing the walk of shame. Every time I tried to meet the eyes of the men strolling around, they took in the sight of the three of us, particularly our soon-to- be-husband, and then avoided my gaze. “It’s like they know you, Ian,” I said. “I mean, not from San Diego. It’s… why are they looking at you like that?”

Ian paused for a moment. “Go on ahead, Alice honey,” he said. “We just need a second here.” She nodded and moved a few yards ahead of us, and Ian fell into step beside me. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked, keeping his voice down as we both kept looking ahead. “Is—is it the wedding? I know we had plans, but there’s still time after we leave to—”

“No, it’s not,” I said. “I can live without my dream dress, Ian.”

“Okay, is it the arrangement? Honey, I know we’ve been planning to get married since, um, before we met Alice, and I understand if—”

“No, that’s not it,” I told him and myself at the same time. “This is just looking like more and more of a permanent arrangement. They’ll offer us food, they’ll make us feel like honored guests, and before we know it we’ll be writing a memoir about how we spent six years locked up in a fundie compound.”

Ian put his hand on my shoulder comfortingly. “How about a week? We’ll give it a week, we’ll take what we can get and as soon as we know—know where we’re going next, we’ll get in the car and peel.”

“I mean, cults keep people in them somehow…”

“I never thought I’d say this, but Laura, look on the bright side.” He motioned to Alice, who was still walking ahead of us. “I’ve wanted you to be my Mrs. Malcolm for a year now, and, uh, I know you

wanna make this official. And think how happy it’ll make Alice. Just for a week.”

I glanced around me, at the comparatively opulent church ahead of us and at Ian’s imploring eyes. “Stop giving me that look,” I said, smiling despite myself. “You know I can’t resist that.”

He grinned back at me. “So I win, then? You’ll—you’ll make me the happiest man in the world?”

“You win just this once, Malcolm.” I leaned up and gave him a quick kiss, and he smiled against my lips.

“But don’t think you’re getting out of this when we get out of here. You’re stuck with me forever.”

“Just you watch.” He took my hand and we ran ahead to where Alice was; we were only a few yards away from the entrance to the church. “We’re good to go, Alice! Have—have either of you seen any flowers around at all? Because my plans for this did involve at least, uh, some semblance of a color scheme…”

“We’re covered in sheets,” I said as Alice threw open the two massive wooden doors, which looked like someone had tried to carve something beautiful and significant in them but had given up halfway. “Is a color scheme really our biggest priority?” 

The temple looked much smaller on the inside than it did from the outside. It was extremely plain-- wooden walls, floor, barely-polished pews-- except for the altar and a huge window above it. The altar looked like it was ostensibly sacred, but it gave off an air of unbearable tackiness. It was obvious that all of its parts were taken from different churches or sets-- the colors of the drapes of velvet clashed, and the candle holders were all different colors and sizes. In front of it stood a small wooden lectern. 

It took me a second to notice that there were also little dinosaur statues lining the wall, and that the small stained glass windows that lined the sides of the building all depicted different types of dinosaurs-- I _knew_ I’d seen that when we’d first seen this place from the car! Alice walked to the front of the church, and Ian just stood in the center and took it all in; I was drawn to the dinosaurs, which were stuck in what looked like candle holders. Even from several feet away and below them, I could see that these weren’t done by anywhere near an expert artist. The one above me-- it looked like a sad attempt at a velociraptor-- looked like it came from a dollar store, with its huge forehead and mangled snout. The one next to it, a sauropod whose species could never be distinguished even by an expert, looked like even _less_ effort was put into it by whatever Chinese factory cranked it out. In fact, none of the dinosaurs looked like they even came from the same place. Across the temple was a Dino Riders triceratops from the ‘80s, next to which was a museum- gift store quality tyrannosaur, and beside that a pterodactyl that could’ve come from a five-dollar playset. 

“Hey, have you guys seen this?” Alice pointed up, and I followed her gaze to the large, round stained-glass window above the elaborate altar.

My first thought was _what the fuck_? It almost looked like it was made as a joke, a parody of a Creationist church rather than the church itself. The intricate window featured a man who looked an awful lot like Grant, sitting astride a roaring green T. rex and holding the reins that were around its snout. On the ground beside him was a very familiar man, kneeling with his hands clasped in prayer, his head surrounded by the same glowing halo around Grant’s. He had dark, curly hair, a leather jacket, black clothes-- there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that this was our soon-to-be husband. Everybody here must not have recognized him from the publicity surrounding the San Diego Incident-- they knew who he was because there was a giant depiction of him _right smack dab_ in the middle of their church. Well, this was certainly getting interesting.

“How have I known you for three years,” I gestured up at the window, “and not known you were part of some kind of dinosaur apocalypse prophecy?”

“Trust me, I didn’t know about it either,” he said, following our gazes. “How about that.”

“How about that?” Alice repeated. “Ian… they’re _worshipping_ you. Some people would react a bit differently to that.”

“Well, I always thought that would happen _after_ my death,” he said matter-of-factly, and licked his lips. “But I gotta say, this works too.” 

Ignoring Ian, who was giving us a shit-eating grin, I turned to Alice and then looked wildly around at all the plastic faces staring at us. “So what is this, some kind of dinosaur cult? I’ve seen young-earth creationists, but they don’t worship dinosaurs.” 

She shrugged. “I’m not really making any assumptions. I just know it’ll be interesting to study.”

Before I could answer, the doors behind us burst open once again, and our new friend the Prophet strolled in. “I hope you’re prepared. I’ve brought a few witnesses, and they wouldn’t like to be kept waiting.” Behind him, in came a much older man with an enormous white beard, followed closely by the younger man -- _JimBob?_ \-- who’d greeted us as we’d come into the compound. He had a jumpy look in his eyes and appeared just as tightly-wound as he had been when we’d first met him-- not surprising, considering that he was probably constantly worried about accidentally sinning. After the two men entered and stood next to Grant with their hands folded, in came a procession of six women in identical beehive hairdos and denim prairie dresses-- well, all except for the last woman, who wore the distinctive dress but whose light blonde hair was swept into a ponytail. They filed into the temple and stood in a neat line, their hands folded as well, looking like a matching set of dolls or Stepford wives. Just looking at them made my skin crawl.

Once the doors were shut and all of our “witnesses” were staring at us like we’d come from another planet, Grant stepped forward and gestured to the nervous-looking man. “This is my assistant, JimBob, and his father Isaiah.” Both men barely acknowledged us with nods. “And these are my wives, Ellie,” he pointed to the blonde-haired woman, who gave us a warm but tight smile, “Rhonda and Miriam,” two sandy-haired, nearly identical-looking women, “Jennifer and Brooke,” two very thin and very tight-faced women who looked like they were judging us even more than Grant was, “and Ruth.” The final wife was obviously the youngest, and while she was even thinner and more jumpy-looking than the previous two, her eyes looked genuinely friendly. If we were going to make any allies in this insane town, it looked like Ruth or Ellie could be somewhat like friends.

“All right, everyone to the pews,” he said, ushering everyone forward and heading up the aisle to the altar. “Ian, what’ll the order be?”

“The-- the order?” Ian asked as he led us up to meet Grant, while everybody quietly filed into pews at the front of the church. 

“The order of your wives,” Grant said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “Who’ll be first and second wife?”

We’d made our way to the stage, and Ian glanced between us with a deer-in-the-headlights expression that I rarely saw from him. “Wh-wh-what? Does there even… need to be an order? Can’t they just be my wives?”

“Just choose one, Ian,” Grant said, crossing his arms. In the corner of my eye, I could see Brooke and Jennifer tittering between them at what an absurd question he’d asked. “There has to be a first and a second. How about the older one is first? Great, now that that’s settled--”

“No, no, wait,” Ian held out a hand, and then clasped one of our hands in each of his. “If you’re asking me to choose which one I love more, that’s not gonna happen.”

“It’s just one of their customs, honey,” Alice stage-whispered. “It doesn’t mean you love one of us more. It’s just their structure.”

“Just pick one,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m sick of them staring at me.”

“All right, well…” he glanced between us, “I promise I have no preference, uh, at all. It’s not a love order… but I’ve been with Laura for longer, so she’ll be my first wife.” He squeezed both of our hands and whispered something in Alice’s ear, at which she smiled and nodded. He turned to me and asked, “Okay with you? I love you both the--”

I shut him up by leaning forward and kissing him, which earned a full round of gasps from the crowd gathered. Grant grimaced and gave us a very disapproving look, and I just raised my eyebrow and silently dared him to say anything about it. Instead of the lecture I expected, he just said, “Can we proceed with the ceremony, please?” and stepped behind the lectern. He clasped the Bible in his hand to his chest and stood, looking at us expectantly.

Ian looked at us and smiled with barely-contained excitement. “Well… let’s do this, ladies.” With our hands still clasped in his, he stood facing perpendicular to Grant and led us so that we faced him, huge smiles growing on both of our faces. This might not have been the wedding I’d pictured when Ian had informally asked me to spend the rest of my life with him a year ago, but whether I liked the method or not, I was about to become Mrs. Malcolm just like I’d dreamed of for so long.

“Brothers in Christ, we are gathered here today in celebration of the union of Dr. Ian Malcolm and…” Grant’s voice faltered as he looked expectantly at Ian.

 _“Laura Lewis,”_ I hissed, earning another frown from the Prophet. He shot an accusing glare at Ian, who kept his silence and jaw set as Alice offered, "Alice Sigrund."

“...In Holy Covenant of the Lord,” Grant finished. “And without further ado -- let us read a verse from the Holy Scripture.” Pausing a moment for gravity, Grant opened the Bible on the lectern before him, and thumbed to a well-worn page. I felt my palms begin to sweat.

“ _Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up the other; but woe to one who is alone and falls and does not have another to help._

When Grant paused, Ian squeezed my hand.

 _“Again, if two lie together, they keep warm; but how can one keep warm alone?_ ” Grant looked up and across the front row of pews, as though addressing a large congregation. “ _And though one might prevail against another,_ " -- here Grant looked Ian right in the eye for a long moment, before swinging his piercing gaze to me -- “ _two will withstand one._ ” Suddenly raising his voice, Grant shouted “ _Brothers! A threefold cord is not quickly broken!_ ” 

I felt Ian jump a little at Grant’s sudden exclamation. This was the world-renowned paleontologist with whom Ian had barely escaped with his life on Isla Nublar?

The silence was interrupted by the conclusion of Grant’s speech. “...Ecclesiastes four, _nine-twelve.”_ At that, the Prophet dropped his hands to the lectern and beamed at us, looking very proud of himself indeed.

When we’d been given sufficient time to digest his words of wisdom, the Prophet turned to Ian. “And now, Dr. Malcolm, if you would place these rings on your brides, and the three of you would state your vows.” From a drawer on the lectern, he pulled out a huge Ziploc bag, which I was shocked to see was full of little silver rings-- _where the hell could they have gotten wedding rings in bulk?_ Grant chose a large wedding band and handed it to Ian, who raised his eyebrows in amusement, and then tested a couple of sizes on me and Alice. When he found sizes that fit, he handed them to Ian and silently gestured for him to begin his vows.

“Hmmm… okay.” Our fiance cleared his throat. “Alice, Laura, you are the ones I will love for the rest of my days. I-- I will hold your hands through the storms of life and share your joys with you, and-- and I will always be your hand to hold and your shoulder to cry on.” He looked each of us in the eyes as he recited, making sure he spoke equally to both of us. “I promise to remain your caring husband for the rest of my days, and to provide both of you with boundless and unconditional love, because you deserve, um, nothing less.” He ended his speech with a wide smile to both of us, and in spite of myself, I couldn’t help but to give him a loving look back. It wouldn’t have surprised me at all if he’d been practicing those vows in his head for a long time.

Grant nodded towards me, and I swallowed and hoped Ian didn’t expect me to come up with a eloquent speech right here and now. “Ian-- the love of my life-- being with you is both the greatest adventure of my life and the safest home I’ve ever known. I… I promise to love you for the rest of my life, to be your faithful wife and best friend, and… to honor our commitment as long as I shall live. You will always have my whole heart.” I gave him a hopeful little grin-- most of what I’d said was lifted from other, better-written vows that I’d seen people deliver, but that didn’t mean that I meant them any less-- and he beamed at me in return, his eyes beginning to shine with joyful tears. 

Perhaps not accustomed to tears of joy at Phoenix wedding ceremonies, Grant cleared his throat and nodded at Alice. Put on the spot, Alice was the opposite of me in that she was at a loss for words. “Ian, I… promise to love, honor and o-- _stand by_ your side, and Laura’s, no matter what. _Forever.”_ His eyes still moist, Ian beamed down at his second bride.

Alice looked expectantly back at Grant, whose knitted eyebrows betrayed barely suppressed irritation.

“All right. Ian, do you take these women to be your wives in the eyes of the Lord, for as long as you three shall live from your time on Earth until you ascend to the Celestial Kingdom?”

“I do.”

“Please place the rings on their fingers.”

Ian looked to me first, and tenderly lifted up my left hand and slid the cheap-looking little wedding ring onto my ring finger. He held eye contact with me for a moment and then leaned in, his lips brushing my cheek, to whisper, “I love you.” He stood up straight and pronounced, “With this ring, I thee wed.” He took a step to the side, still holding my hand, and did the same with Alice, including whispering in her ear. When he was done, he looked to Grant for approval.

“Now, I’ll need your first wife to give her blessing to your second. Traditionally--”

I didn’t know very much about polygamous weddings, but I had read somewhere about the typical way that a wife blessed her husband’s second marriage. If this didn’t turn out to be the custom here, even better-- I wasn’t about to reject a way to piss this guy off. I leaned to my right side and made sure everyone saw me kiss Alice’s cheek and squeeze her free hand; she immediately flushed bright red and covered her snicker with her free hand, and there was a murmur among the people in the pews, but not a huge one. It looked like I’d gotten it right after all.

Grant muttered something under his breath, and then leaned forward against his lectern and waved his hand over the three of us. “By the power vested in me by God himself, I now pronounce you man and wives! You may now kiss the brides-- _modestly.”_

Ian wasn’t concerned with being modest. He pulled both of us in and hugged us tightly against his chest, leaning down to give me and then Alice long, deep kisses. The men and women in the pews applauded politely; some of them did so more sarcastically than others, although Ruth looked genuinely happy for us and Ellie had a look that was best described as wistful. Ian kept us held close to him and kept this special moment going for as long as he could, all three of us trading kisses while Alice cheered gleefully and I allowed myself to laugh with the utter ecstasy of the moment.

Grant cleared his throat loudly enough for the sound to echo through the entire building, and Ian finally stopped giving us kisses and moved us so that we all faced the congregation, still holding each of us tightly with one arm. Ian flashed one of his million-watt grins and opened his mouth to say something, but behind us, Grant wasn’t finished.

“The prophecy has been fulfilled!” he bellowed, raising his arms skyward. “God has sent His blessing. The second Dinosaur Man has arrived, and God’s glorious plan for His congregation will soon come to fruition. Let His people rejoice!”

All together, the people in the pews stood and clasped their hands in prayer, looking at the stained glass window above us and saying in one voice, “Praise the Dinosaur Men! The Lord is good!” They dropped their arms to their sides and stared reverently at Grant; I noticed that Ellie was rolling her eyes.

Ian gave us a bemused look as Grant moved from his lectern and descended the steps into the aisle. “The deed is done! Isaiah, go prepare the grills. JimBob, go tell everyone the news and tell them to gather in front of the Temple. Brooke, bring the meat and--” he glared venomously back at me-- “the _vegetables_ , and everyone else, get ready to make everyone’s food. Let’s have a cookout!"


	3. Chapter Three (Alice)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES THAT'S RIGHT, THE SEX IS HERE, MY FRIENDS

After having our fill of hamburgers and hot dogs at our wedding cookout, it was time to mingle with our hosts. Laura dug her camera out of our luggage, and Ellie took our pictures. Some were of Laura and Ian, some of me and Ian, and lots with the three of us together. It was a far cry from any other wedding photo shoot I’d ever seen— all three of us looked exactly like one would think we’d look after a long road trip, none of us were in the mood for artful poses and there wasn’t any lovely scenery to use as backdrops. Still, though, little gleams of our happiness shone through on our faces and in the way Ian held us. _Something else to show the kids,_ I thought as we finished up and headed back to the barbecue.

I was accosted by several women after that, who must have been desperate to talk to someone outside of their usual circle. Ruth Grant, Alan's sixth wife, was telling me about her summers spent logging in Bountiful, British Columbia, when I felt a tug at my shoulder. I turned and Ian was standing behind me. He cleared his throat. "Mrs. Grant, if I may,” he said, smiling and nodding at Ruth. It did not escape my notice that he was quickly picking up the local mannerisms. "Mind if I have a moment with my beautiful new missus?" Ruth blushed deeper than I did, and quickly turned away.

Ian clasped my hand in his and kissed me quickly on the cheek. Wordlessly, he pulled me far enough away from the crowd that no one but me would hear what he had to say. "Alice," Ian drew me close and kissed my forehead. Sighing contentedly to myself, I hugged him back. "I love you, Alice, you know that—"

"And I love you too." I stood on my tiptoes—Ian was 6'6" to my 5'—and kissed him on the lips. "What is this about?"

Ian looked almost uncomfortable as he drew in a breath. His hands were clasped together across my upper back. "Well, I, uh, just wanted to check in and make sure you were OK with the, uh... You know, the arrangement." He watched me nervously for a reaction.

Was that all? I widened my eyes slightly, pretending for a moment to be troubled. A look of concern flashed across Ian's face until I relaxed my expression and broke a smile. "Well, if saying yes to your proposal wasn't enough, then I assure you that no, I don't have a problem with the arrangement. It was fine in Austin, why not here?"

Ian squeezed me and kissed me on the forehead. "You know what I mean, Alice... _Second wife."_

"Oh, that." I shrugged. "You remember where I come from, Ian," I said softly. Ian dropped his gaze; he knew I was referring not only to Canada, but the circumstances with my ex-fiancée under which I'd left my hometown to work in the southern U.S., and what had happened thereafter. "I'd rather be your second wife than anyone else's first, and be with you and Laura. You're my family. That's why I came with you when we left the city."

"That's my girl," Ian gathered his arms around my waist and lifted me to kiss him. 

I shrieked, breaking the kiss. "Put me down!" 

Gently Ian lowered me until my feet touched the ground, then he took my hand, winking at me. "Come on, Alice," he guided me back towards the party. "We have a big night ahead of us."

***

At some point in the middle of the night's festivities, Ian disappeared. Laura and I took a break from accepting congratulations and more than a few stares, and circulated the perimeter of the park, but we could not find him.

"Dr. Grant and Ellie are MIA too," I observed. "Grant said something about a place for us to stay – maybe he and Ian are discussing that."

Laura looked frustrated. "We just met all these people today. We don't know anyone! Why would he leave us here without telling us where he's going?"

I felt Laura's pain. "I'm socially— and physically—exhausted, too. We'll have to just trust Ian... I'm sure he'll be back soon and he'll tell us what's going on."

We sat on a picnic bench, drinking our lemonade and watching the huge families gather up their broods and leave. The sun was almost completely set, and twilight was sweeping over the town, rays of deep purple and orange painting the dusty landscape like watercolors.

"I just want somewhere to lie down and rest," Laura said at last, slumping forward in her seat. “Isn’t that all we asked for? Just somewhere to sleep? Christ.”

"You're telling me. What a day. What a couple of days."

A short while later, Ian, Alan and Ellie finally appeared beside us. Alan tipped his hat. "Ladies." Laura and I stood. "On behalf of the Grant family, I'd like to welcome you to Phoenix. Congratulations on your marriage." Laura and I shook Grant's hand, then we each hugged Ellie.

Ian took Laura's hand in his and put the other on my shoulder. "It’s been a real pleasure, Dr. Grant. Thank you for offering such a warm welcome to Phoenix." Ian paused. "The ladies and I will, uh— be retiring for the night." 

The corners of Grant's eyes crinkled as he smiled at Ian.

***

"I'm so sorry, loves, but Grant wanted to, ah, make sure that we were settled. He offered to let JimBob help move our stuff into the trailer." We were walking along the gravel road in the dark. Ian was between us, holding our hands to make sure we didn't trip. Phoenix was even quieter and deader at night.

"Next time, please warn us when you're gonna leave us alone with the fundies, OK?" Laura admonished. “They kept asking me if I knew Satan came in the form of a serpent.”

"Trailer?" I asked. "What trailer?"

Ian looked at me, then at Laura. "Grant's given us a trailer to stay in while we’re here."

Laura laughed. "Only the finest in Phoenix for us."

"Is it really a trailer?" I had visions of the Winnebagos in which we'd go camping up north in my youth.

"It's really a trailer," Ian replied. "Look." 

I looked at where Ian was gesturing. Before us stood a half-trailer, half-bungalow mishmash that sported the same worn-out paint and accents of every other dwelling in town. It looked even more uninviting in the dark. Ian's sports car stuck out like a sore thumb, parked in front of the property. “It looks right out of a country song,” I said.

"Home sweet home," said Ian. "Come on in." There was no lock on the door—Ian waltzed right in, flipping on a light switch. The light illuminated a sitting area as drab and dusty as the land around it, furnished with a couple of taupe-colored sofas and with a few framed prints of the most generic religious art I’d ever seen hanging on the walls. JimBob and Ian had brought our purses and luggage into the room.

Determined not to upset Ian or Laura, I made an effort to make the best of the situation. "Wow, it's great that Grant and Ellie were so willing to give us a place to stay on such short notice."

"I know it's not ideal," Ian's gaze went from Laura to me. "But Grant’s an old friend, and if there’s—there’s anywhere we won't be found, it's here." He paused. “Plus, it's the perfect place to... To do our thing." 

I sensed a subtle shift in the mood in the room. Laura and I caught eyes and blushed. I smiled at her, unseen by Ian.

"Ian, Laura and I are exhausted. Where do we sleep?" This was going to be good.

"There are two bedrooms and a study, which’ll be my bedroom." Ian motioned for us to follow him. He led us down the hall, flipping another light switch.

"The first bedroom," Ian stepped inside the room. There was a queen-sized bed and a very old dresser. The bed was not made, but a freshly-folded pile of linens sat upon it. "Courtesy of Ellie," Ian said, following our gaze. Looking at Laura, his eyes sparkled. "This is your room, First Wife."

"Alice," Ian gestured for us to follow him. "You're across the hall." My room was nearly identical, and Ellie had left fresh sheets for the bed there also. I didn’t bother to take in too many details—there were far more important events at hand.

Ian led us to the next room. "The study." This was not a regular study. It was the most luxurious room in the home. It was the size of a living room, and contained a queen-sized bed. On this one, the fresh sheets had already been fitted— _courtesy of Ellie,_ I thought. Ian's suitcase sat at the side of the bed. On the opposite wall was a desk just like the one in Alan's office. There was even a TV stand, and I took special note of the old, boxy TV on it—even that amount of contact with the outside world surprised me, and it implied a few things that I’d have to investigate further when I got the chance.

The study was the man's domain, according to Ellie. "Your bedroom," I affirmed.

"Yes, but," Ian paused, knitting his eyebrows. "Did Ellie explain the way they, uh, do things here?"

Ellie had explained that in Phoenix, men took turns with their wives each night. Ian would alternate sleeping with us, but we could negotiate between ourselves to trade nights off, as long as Ian agreed. Although we had assigned nights, Ian had veto power at any time. If he was assigned to sleep with me but he was horny for Laura, he was encouraged to follow his divine desires and owed no explanation. Laura’s face had been quite amusing during _that_ discussion.

Even if it differed only slightly logistically from the polyamorous arrangement we'd had back in the city, I was still absorbing it all. "Yes, she did." 

Laura nodded. "So what were you thinking for tonight?" she asked. _Thank you, Laura,_ I thought.

Suddenly, Ian was almost shy. "Well. It _is_ our wedding night. I'd like to spend it with, uh, both of you."

Although I had expected that that was coming, I couldn't help but to blush. Unlike probably all the women in Phoenix, my wedding night would not be my first time, not even with Ian. But it would be the first time with Ian and my new sister wife. I glanced at Laura, whose eyes were wide as saucers. I imagined similar thoughts were going through her mind.

Sensing that to move this forward, he needed to take the lead, Ian took us each by the hand and led us to the bed. I climbed on and sat cross-legged. Taller Laura sat on the edge of the bed.

Laura and I waited for Ian to make the next move. He began to unbutton his shirt. When it was off, he approached, swooping Laura into his arms. Laura yelped and giggled as he pinned her down briefly, next to me. Then, Ian lay down between us and pulled me down with them. 

Giggling and glancing at each other across his chest, we cuddled up to Ian's shoulders.

"My ladies..."

"Yes, sir?" Laura was the first to speak up. 

"Oh, fuck, _Laura_ ," Ian growled. In one swift move, he had rolled onto her and enveloped her in his arms, and was kissing her face and neck aggressively. Just as quickly, Laura's hands were busy trying to unbuckle his belt.

Feeling my face flush, I turned away, hiding from the two of them. I had expected something like this, based on what Laura had told me in the past about the very different dynamic they had in bed, but seeing it was something far different.

Laura was giggling in between Ian's kisses. "Alice, help me here!"

I turned back to face them and saw what Laura was asking for –she was pinned and unable to remove Ian's pants. Laughing, I sat up and grabbed onto the back of Ian's waistband; it was easy to slide down, as Laura had managed to loosen his belt. At the sight of his bare butt cheeks, I could not resist lightly slapping him, causing Ian to flinch and Laura to burst into a fit of giggles.

Growling, Ian held Laura down, clutching her in his arms. She was grasping onto his shoulders for dear life, and Ian was fucking her with short, fast strokes. The tired, old bed squeaked with every thrust. I was familiar with Ian's moans and grunts of pleasure, but listening to him with Laura was all new. I busied myself with taking off my clothes and underwear, pulling up the sheet to cover my naked body.

It wouldn't be appropriate to interrupt this moment for the two of them, but I thought of something that might just make it more memorable. Now, Ian was ravishing Laura's breasts with his tongue, dividing his loving attention between both nipples. Unnoticed by the lovers, I sat up and began rifling around in Ian's suitcase, which sat at the end of the bed.

_I found it. Yes. Laura will love this._

They were so into their lovemaking that I could have screamed "FIRE!" and they probably wouldn't have noticed, but I was as quiet as possible as I moved back up to the head of the bed, holding the short-tailed leather whip. So as not to interrupt the passion, I gently nudged Ian's left hand, which was clutching Laura's shoulder. I surprised him enough to loosen his grip, at which point I pushed the whip’s handle into his hand. Immediately, Ian realized what I was doing. He grinned at me.

"Laura," Ian panted in her ear. "On your knees. Now."

Clearly not expecting this, Laura paused for a moment before wiggling out from under Ian. She did as he asked, briefly casting a sidelong glance at me that I pretended not to notice. Laura grasped onto the pillow, and Ian positioned himself on his knees behind her. The whip lay next to them.

Ian bent forward to whisper something in Laura's ear that I could not hear. I think they shared a joke, but I couldn’t be sure. Seconds later, Ian had grabbed onto Laura's thighs and plunged himself deep inside her.

Both Ian and Laura moaned with pleasure as he pushed inside her as far as he could go. I shivered, remembering how indescribably good it felt to switch from missionary to doggie. My face flushing again, I draped the sheet over myself and lay back, idly watching the lovers but gazing enough out of the way that I could not be accused of staring.

Ian knew I was watching, though. Tipping a wink at me, he picked up the whip and held it just above Laura's lower back.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me, Laura? ... Yes?" Ian smacked the whip against her upper buttocks.

Laura cried out more from surprise than pain. "Yes, Ian, yes."

"I didn't hear you." Ian smacked the whip again, lower down and harder this time.

"YES!" Her voice quavered.

"That's it, girl," Ian moaned. His voice had that edge to it, the one that meant he was close. They were in their own little world now, Ian cracking the whip over Laura's buttocks as she cried out, "Sir, please sir, more!" 

_Fuck, this is hot. When will it be my turn?_

"Uuunnnnhhhhh..."

I recognized that sound; Ian, and probably Laura too, were both about to come. The squeaking of the bed became irregular as Ian lost control of his body's rhythm. The leather whip hit Laura's buttocks again, halfheartedly this time. "Fuck, Laura... Ahhh..."

"Oh, Ian..." _Thump, thump, thump._ The headboard was creaking with Ian's final strokes.

"It's too good Laura... Fuck... _So good_..."

The last sound I heard was their bodies collapsing together onto the mattress.

***

Ian and Laura lay entwined for a while, catching their breaths. He brushed little strands of hair out of her face, whispering things about what a good girl she was, and Laura nuzzled her head against his neck. Finally, he rolled off of her and onto his back between us, and the two of us lay again, each cuddled up to Ian's sides. I pulled the blanket up around us.

Only about ten minutes passed, but it felt like an eternity. Unable to wait anymore, I twisted onto my side and grabbed a handful of Ian's shiny curls, bringing his face to mine. _"I want you."_

"Alice, get over here..." Ian's voice was husky. He grabbed my wrists and pulled me to him, pinning me down with his body against the bed.

"Ia—" I was cut off by his aggressive kiss. He thrust his hips against mine, pressing his erection against my groin. I could not believe he was so hard again. "Ohh, Ian..."

He was nibbling my earlobe now. "Alice... I've missed those tits... Let me taste those nipples..."

I couldn't help pressing my hips against his. Tugging on his hair, I guided him to my right nipple, the more sensitive one. He took my cue and closed his lips around it, gently licking and sucking with exquisite softness. The sensations were incredible— I could feel myself getting more and more wet for him.

"Unnnhh, Ian..." I moaned, clutching at his shoulders. Ian paused for a moment and looked up at me with that crooked smile, nipple still between his teeth. "Ian—"

He let go of the nipple, grinning wickedly. "Laura, love, c'mere." In my peripheral vision I saw Laura stir and move towards us, her manner hesitant and her limbs still unsteady.

_"Look at these nipples. Aren't they gorgeous? Puffies." Ian nuzzled his cheek against the hardened right nipple. Grabbing Laura's hand, Ian pressed it to my left breast with his palm. Both Laura and I yelped in surprise; a look of incredulous arousal flickered across her face, and I felt an unexpected twinge between my thighs._

__

That was the reaction Ian was looking for. _"There."_ Ian had a glint in his eye. _"Good girls."_

Not missing a beat, he slid himself inside me to the hilt in one stroke. I was left gasping for breath as he began with his hard fucking, grunting a little with each thrust. As soon as he found an unsteady rhythm, I realized that the novelty of having both of us in bed was almost too much for Ian to handle.

My amusement at Ian's pleasure overload was interrupted by Laura. I realized she was alternately poking Ian and and myself on our forearms, nervously hoping to get the attention of one of us. 

"Mmnh... mmnh... Ian," I pried my lips apart from his. "Something... going on," I murmured.

Following Laura's gaze to the doorway, I got a glimpse of a cowboy hat that I’d know anywhere. I screamed, startling Ian enough for him to flinch and turn his head quickly. I felt him stiffen against me.

"Grant! I see you!" Ian's body vibrated with fury as he rose to a more dignified position than between the thighs of one of his new wives on his wedding night. I was so mortified that I could only keep my gaze down as I scrambled blindly for the blanket, feeling Laura pushing it towards me to cover my nakedness. She had the same look in her eyes that she’d had when Grant handed her the sheet—a look that reminded me of a belligerent neighbor whose front lawn I’d been caught trampling.

Grant shrank in the doorway as he appeared to be genuinely embarrassed. _To be caught?_

"I'm—I'm so sorry. I—I just wanted to come by and make sure you were comfortable in your new place." His voice faltered.

Ian stood at the foot of the bed, sheet wrapped around his waist. Having been so intimate with him only moments earlier, I was still attuned to Ian's emotional vibes. He was livid.

"What the hell made you think it was OK to sneak in here— to—to spy— on us? I didn't invite you, did I?" He glared at Grant a moment, then looked around the room, finally grabbing the whip that still sat on the bed. "We were quite—quite comfortable until this intrusion, thank you."

Laura and I exchanged a look that was equal parts horror and amusement. 

Grant's eyes widened and he tensed at the sight of Ian advancing towards him, holding the whip menacingly. "Get out." Ian's tone was threatening. _"Now."_

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. I held my breath.

Grant backed away slowly, slinking down the dark hallway. A moment later, the front door of the trailer slammed shut.

Ian relaxed his shoulders and sighed. He set down the whip on the night table and got back onto the bed. First he wrapped his arms around Laura, kissing her tenderly and whispering something in her ear that made her smile. He then turned to me and pulled me towards him in a tight hug, kissing me hard on the lips. "I'm sorry, Alice." 

I kissed him back. "Pretty sure it's not your fault, Ian. You didn't invite him, did you?"

"You know I didn't, baby." A mischievous smile spread across his face. "'Cause if I had, Ellie would've been here too."

"Ian!" I swatted him lightly on the shoulder. "You do know that is not appropriate talk for the marital bed, especially on our wedding night?"

Both Ian and Laura giggled. I felt the last tension from the Alan encounter melt away at the sound of my two best friends so happy.

"My loves, come here." Ian put one arm around each of us and guided us to cuddle him on either side. Laying down, I suddenly felt very, very tired.

"We've committed to joining this community for now. It doesn't mean we have to believe in their Prophet," – Ian laughed—"we just have to respect their, uh, beliefs and culture."

"Unless that culture involves Peeping Toms?" Laura interrupted.

Laughter again. "Grant hasn’t heard the last about that, believe me," Ian said finally. "And the first thing I'm gonna do tomorrow is figure out how to secure that door." 

Allowing himself to forget about Grant, Ian drew us closer. "We'll start the schedule right away." He turned to Laura. "Laura, as First Wife, you, ah, you will take me to bed with you tomorrow night." He kissed her on lips, and I could see her cheeks redden.

"And Alice," he turned to kiss my cheek, whispering softly. "The night ends at nine AM the morning after. Then I'm--I'm all yours." I felt warmth rising between my legs as my mind raced ahead, imagining the conclusion of what was so rudely interrupted tonight.

Laying back into the pillows and squeezing us both on the shoulders, Ian yawned. "Sleep well, my loves, sweet dreams."

***

Weak sunlight fell across the bed through the curtained window. It was early morning, and the three of us were still sleeping off the previous day's excitement. Ian snored lightly and Laura and I had our heads nestled on his shoulders.

I'd awakened in the early hours after a dream in which Laura and I had been slaving for hours by ourselves, barefoot and pregnant, clad in prairie dresses, in an industrial kitchen, to feed a horde of hungry fundie men and their huge families. I knew well enough that it was just a dream— albeit one that probably said a lot about my deep-down anxieties about where I'd found myself—but I couldn't fall asleep again after waking up.

For a little while I lay drifting between thought and slumber, until I felt Ian stirring beside me. "'Morning, love," he whispered, brushing his lips across my forehead. He turned to Laura and gently kissed her on the hair. She was still fast asleep.

"You okay, Alice honey? Bad dream?"

I nodded and buried my face in his neck. "Kind of," I whispered. 

Carefully maneuvering so as not to disturb Laura, Ian pulled me into a tight hug. His lips found mine and he started kissing me passionately while gently rolling me onto my back. _Picking up right where we left off last night, I thought._

Laura stirred from sleep and, hearing muffled noises, turned to face us. For a moment I could feel her gaze, and then the mattress shifted as Laura started to get out of the bed.

Ian stopped and held out an arm, grasping her. She froze. "No." There was a bit of an edge to his voice, which caught us both off guard. "Stay here, Laura honey."

I caught Laura's eye for a brief moment as her expression registered sleepy confusion with interest, but in an instant, Ian was kissing my neck. "I'm so sorry about last night, baby," he whispered, nipping my earlobe and making me start to squirm. "Let me make it up to you."

All I could muster in response was a moan as he kissed a trail to my left breast, pausing to lick and briefly suckle the nipple. He pressed his hard morning erection against my belly. I began to moan and squirm as I always did when Ian licked my nipples, but this time he didn't stay there for long, moving his head to kiss my midriff. Immediately I reached down and grabbed his shoulder, startling him. He looked up at me, puzzled.

"No, Ian, come back up here," I coaxed, grabbing a few curls and tugging. Instead he sat up.

Laura, who'd been observing this whole time, scooted over to Ian's side. She grinned at me and then whispered something in his ear, cupping her hand around her cheek so I couldn't hear.

"She won't let me, Laura."

Laura shifted her gaze to mine, a look of shock on her face.

"You won't... _let him, Alice?"_

I felt my face warm up at Laura's tone. "I...um, I find it too sensitive and um, ticklish. I'd rather..." I trailed off, lifting my right hand to grasp my right breast.

Ian chuckled as Laura sighed in frustration. "Alice, we know about the tit stuff, but fuck, you're missing out." Glancing at Ian and then at me, she moved back over to my side. I could feel Ian watching us as Laura leaned over and whispered, loud enough for Ian to hear, "Alice, here's your nipple grabbing, now let Ian work his magic." She nodded to Ian, and he dipped his head down.

I gasped as I felt Laura's thumbs hesitantly press my nipples just as Ian brushed his lips against my inner right thigh. I felt him settle into position, his strong hands holding my thighs in place. Now his lips were gently pressed against my lower ones, his tongue probing. I shivered and groaned at the sensation— or was it the electric shocks of pleasure zinging towards my very core every time Laura pinched both my nipples? "Uuuunnnnhhhhhh.... Laura.... Ian...." I moaned.

My eyes flickered open and I caught the glance that the two of them shared. In my state I didn't catch exactly what they said, but I could swear I heard Laura whisper "...the alphabet." I saw Ian grin and, and his cheeks reddened slightly.

_What the hell?_

Before I could think further, Ian's mouth was between my legs again, this time licking me in earnest. He was tracing something over my lips—I could feel his tongue deliberately swirling in all different directions, slowly, quickly, softly and then firmly, drawing little circles and then long, wide strokes. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sensations, but he held me in place. "Ahh! Oh my god, Ian!"

Ian didn't acknowledge me, but Laura giggled, cupping my breasts in her hands. "I told you you were missing out, girl!" 

"Ahh! Ahh! Oh! Oh my god... _Oh my god_ ..." I bucked my hips involuntarily, and Ian paused for a moment. I heard myself groan in frustration. "Mmmnnhhh...." 

"That's it, girl," Ian's voice was rough with arousal. A moment later, I felt him slide two fingers deep inside me, all the way to the third knuckles with one stroke. "Ah, fuck..." I hissed, bucking my hips again shakily. Ian steadied my movements by burying his face between my legs again. This time I was panting, desperate for his touch. He resumed the firm, steady strokes with his tongue that had brought me to this point. Laura sat still, stroking and pinching my hardened nipples, taking in the scene before her with amusement and glee, the doubts that had registered on her face a minute ago completely gone.

At last, it was too much. "Ohhhhuuuuhhhhhh..." I moaned, and I felt Ian's muscles clench; he knew I was close. Laura's fingers kept up a steady rhythm massaging my nipples. "Ahhhhhh...aahhhhh...!" I arched my back against the bed as a burst of pleasure radiated through me. I closed my eyes and rode out the waves, sighing heavily as I felt myself relax against the mattress.

Laura drew her fingers away and I heard Ian chuckle as he moved up to kiss me. "Thank you, Alice honey," he whispered against my lips. I could taste myself when he pressed his mouth to mine.

"Unnnhhhh, Iannn..." I was almost beyond words. Ian paid this no mind, moving his hips into position between my shaking thighs. He kissed me again, and I felt him nudging against my wet lips. I pushed forward to encourage him; I was more than ready for it. Ian slid himself inside at long last, groaning with relief at the contact with the warm wetness. His hips immediately began to find a quick, sharp rhythm, and I could tell he wasn't going to last long.

I wrapped my arms around Ian's shoulders and pulled him towards me, kissing his lips and then moving my attention to his earlobe, giving it the little bites that always drove him crazy. In my peripheral vision, I saw Laura drop into a lounging position alongside us. I felt Ian start as Laura grabbed a handful of his curls, turning his face towards hers to kiss him roughly on the lips. I gasped as Ian's thrusts deepened.

"Oh, fuck, my _girls_ ..." Ian hissed against Laura's lips. He inhaled quickly, and seconds later I felt the warm wetness exploding inside. "Uuuunnnnhhhh..." Ian threw his head back and moaned as he bucked his hips against mine one, two, three times. A moment later he collapsed on me, enveloping his large frame around mine, and I could feel both of our heartbeats pounding as he lay on top of me.

We lay still for a few minutes, just breathing, and then Ian squeezed my shoulders in his arms and kissed my forehead and hair. The deep pressure made me sigh with relaxation, and soon Ian loosened his grip and rolled onto his back between me and Laura, who lay on her side facing us. Ian pulled Laura close to his other side and kissed her on the lips. "Good morning, my loves," he said at last, running his hands along our hair and down our backs.

Laura and I exchanged a look across Ian's chest. _Good morning, indeed._


	4. Chapter Four (Laura)

We had slept in until the late morning and then taken our time in getting out of bed, so we were all ravenously hungry when it came time for lunch. Ellie, who I'd already started to grow really fond of, had been kind enough to stock our fridge and pantry with enough staples to make vegetable soup and sandwiches. I had prepared them while Alice unpacked and Ian worked on figuring out how to keep nosy neighbors out of the trailer.

"Everything in this place is going to need a really good clean," remarked Alice as we sat down at the little kitchen table. "Thanks so much Laura, for putting this together," she said with a smile.

"Thank Ellie." I turned to Ian. "Speaking of the Grants, any luck with the front door?" I felt my face warm up remembering the previous night, and stole a glance at Alice - she was remembering too, studiously avoiding my gaze.

"There's an old, broken lock on it, which I can replace if we get a new one." Ian sighed. "That means a trip to the city." He looked at me apologetically. "In the meantime, we'll have to make do with ah -- a chair."

I frowned, feeling frustration rise as I considered that I hadn't wanted to stay here with this Prophet guy from the minute I'd laid eyes on him, old friend of Ian's or not. I opened my mouth to speak, but thought better of it when I felt Alice's small hand squeeze my knee under the table.

Alice broke the uncomfortable silence. "Well, we're going to need to go there some time soon - we can't rely on others for food and supplies. However," Alice glanced first at Ian, then at me. "I am going next door in a bit to see Ellie."

Ian and I looked at each other, then at Alice. She grimaced. "It's to try on prairie dresses." Alice gestured towards the bedrooms, where we'd left the dresses Ellie had given us yesterday for the wedding. "Remember, Laura, how she said yesterday she'd check with some friends to see if she could find me some petite sized dresses? Ones that don't drag on the floor? It's never easy to find clothes that fit properly, even in regular stores." She sighed, finishing the last bite of her sandwich. "Want me to ask her about anything?"

I smiled sympathetically at Alice; I knew she disliked clothes shopping, and it would be even more tiresome when obligated to wear those frumpy "Little House on the Prairie" dresses.

Ian snorted. "Ask if she knew where her husband was last night."

I shot Ian a warning glance as I stood. Alice blushed and cast her eyes down. "I don't think--"

"I was joking, honey." Ian reached over to Alice and squeezed her shoulder.

"Very funny, Ian."

***  
By nine o’ clock that night, Alice and I had gotten more or less used to our prairie dresses; they were a suffocatingly hot, constant reminder of our lower status, and I hated mine with a passion, but at least we didn’t have to wear them as long as we weren’t outside. We kept all the doors closed by propping furniture against them, and nobody tried to come visit us, probably assuming we were doing honeymoon-related things. In reality we were on the couch in our pajamas; Ian and Alice were reading some of the religious books that were left on the shelves for us, and I was idly doodling cartoon people having sex in the inside cover of one of the Bibles. It was quiet and calm, a nice contrast to the upheavals of the past couple of days.

Ian interrupted the silence by clearing his throat. “Didn’t we say that, uh, nine was our bedtime?”

“Yep,” Alice said, closing her book and marking her spot with her thumb. “I’m not ready to turn in yet, but you guys go ahead. Night, Laura,” she said cheerfully, reaching behind Ian to pat my shoulder.

“Go on ahead, sweetie, I’ll say goodnight to Alice.” He leaned over, kissed me on the cheek and whispered in my ear, “Go get ready. I’ll be in there in five minutes, you know what I wanna see.”

I did know; when it was time to fuck this way, Ian had something very certain that he wanted to see when he came into the bedroom. I smiled, gave him a “You got it”, hugged Alice good night, and ran into my meager little bedroom. I still wasn’t anywhere near used to it—just looking around and seeing the cross on the wall above the bed, the wooden chair in the corner, and the overall shabby aesthetic made me shudder. The sheets were still messed up from our little adventure earlier in the afternoon, but I didn’t think that would be very high on my new husband’s priority list. I dug a hair band from my purse and put my hair into a quick and short braid, stripped down to my panties, and sat up on the bed on my knees, leaning back on my heels, my legs apart, hands resting palms-up on my thighs. I closed my eyes and focused on getting myself into the right frame of mind, trying to remember that this was what I wanted and trying to ignore that this was almost certainly the kind of thing that our new wifely-submission-obsessed fundie friends would like me to do.

When I’d finally gotten my head somewhere near clear, I heard the door creak open and then shut, and felt a weight on the mattress next to me and breath on my face. “Very good,” I heard Ian whisper, and then his hand was on my head, gently stroking my braid. “You still okay with this?”

We’d talked about doing this kind of scene a few hours earlier, and my mind hadn’t changed. “Yes, sir.”

I didn’t need to open my eyes to know he was grinning. “Fantastic. You can relax now. Lie across here.” He dragged a pillow from the head of the bed and left it in the middle, and when he shifted to the side, I lay down face-first with the pillow under my hips. I shifted around to get comfortable, and Ian handed me a little throw pillow—the cover was coarse, with a Bible verse of some kind embroidered on it, but now wasn’t the time to comment—to rest my head on before reaching into the nightstand drawer. I could see his crooked little smile from the corner of my eye when he saw the supplies I’d put in there. “You sure, uh, got your priorities straight.”

“You and I both know this isn’t a prayer room.”

He produced a length of silky black rope, moved my arms so that my wrists were together on the small of my back, and got to work tying. “You know, some people keep Bibles in their bedside tables. You could sure use one of those, maybe it could help with you and Alice stop being such _loose women_ …” Again I could see his grin in my mind’s eye.

“You know, I’d think by now that you’d have figured out the correlation between mentions of the Bible and how much pussy you get,” I started, and giggled when he playfully slapped my ass. “I’m just saying, you seem to like our whorish ways.”

“You bet I do,” he said, closing the last knot and leaning forward. He gave my wrist a little squeeze. “Too tight? You comfortable?”

“Nope—I mean, uh—I’m fine, sir.”

“Good.” Ian shuffled over and lay down on his side next to me, so that his face was right beside mine. One hand propped his head up, and the other stroked my thigh and circled the edges of my panties. “Now, you’ve been a very good girl today.” I made a contented sound under my breath. “So I’m gonna give you a reward. But tell me, baby, what’s the rule about cumming?”

“Can’t cum without your permission,” I breathed.

“Good. And—and what happens if you break that rule?”

“Get punished.”

“That’s right.” His hand slipped under the waistband of my underwear and tugged them off, tossing them onto the floor so that I was totally naked; very slowly, his fingers traced their way from my knee to between my thighs, and began tracing circles around the outside of my pussy.

It always took varying amounts of time to stop feeling weird about these kinds of situations, and to start actually feeling the role I was playing. I’d tried to describe what it was like to get into that submissive space before, and the best I could come up with was: it was like jumping backwards off a cliff with the knowledge that someone—Ian—was there on the ground to catch me. Of course it took some time to make that trust-fall, but once I was in the air and the visceral sensations of it took over—the awe, the floating feeling in my heart, the knowledge that there was no possible way I could do anything to control my surroundings—it was a thrill like nothing else I could imagine. When he slipped the tip of his index finger between my lips and murmured, “Ooh, you’re already so wet for me,” my mind made that backwards jump, and it was time to give him my trust. Suddenly, naturally, I wanted nothing but to obey him.

His thick middle finger glided inside me first; his rough skin felt incredible against my slick walls, and I felt my muscles instinctively clench, tightening myself around him. “You want this so bad, don’t you. Needy girl,” he purred, and a second finger followed the first. His hand found a slow but steady rhythm, two fingers pumping in and out, in and out, fluttering up and down as they worked. I groaned in tandem with his movements, burying my face in the pillow to muffle the sound, but he wasn’t having any of that. With his free hand he nudged my chin up with his thumb, ordering, “Let me hear you, baby.” I gave him a soft groan and pressed my thighs together when he reached a bit deeper than he usually did and massaged a very sensitive spot; he grinned and moved his hand down my body, squeezing one of my breasts and making me gasp.

When he slowed down and came to a stop with his fingers still half-buried inside me, I pushed my hips back towards him and whimpered imploringly, but he pinned the small of my back to the bed and said, “Still.” His fingers resumed their work, but instead of thrusting, they curled up and moved in a “come here” motion, massaging a spot that felt great but wasn’t what he was looking for. Hearing the little grunt under my breath, he shifted his fingers up a little; that wasn’t it, and neither was the spot just a bit below it… he was almost there, _almost_ …

There! He’d only brushed it lightly, but that was definitely my G-spot. I let out a sharp “ahhh!” to let him know, and he rewarded me by curling his fingers hard, pressing firmly against that little spot that made me tremble and whimper right away. I couldn’t have stopped crying out with pleasure even if I’d wanted to, and I heard behind me, “Look at how much you love this. So wet, so helpless… you’ll do anything if I keep making you feel this good, won’t you?” I frantically nodded, moaning louder and louder as he curled his fingers over and over, filling me with relentless pleasure.

Suddenly, those familiar electric shocks shot through my pussy and up to my stomach as I could feel my inner muscles clench hard around Ian’s wriggling fingers. Gritting my teeth and gasping, I mewled, “ _fuck, fuck, fuck, Ian_ ,” into the little throw pillow; I couldn’t keep my legs and hips from twitching as my orgasm surged through my body, fuzzing my brain further and sending me plummeting faster and faster over that cliff in my mind as everything vanished but the thought of how incredible Ian had made me feel with nothing but a few curls of his fingers.

He kept his fingers inside me and murmured encouragement while I rode it out, and once the shocks dulled to a pleasant tingle and my body stilled, he slipped them out and put his hand on my waist. “Did I just feel you cumming around my fingers?” I heard in my ear.

I nodded against the pillow and gave him a dreamy, “Mmm hmm.”

“Tell me again, baby. What’s the rule about cumming?”

I heard the stern undertone, but it didn’t worry me; I’d expected this. He knew the kinds of things he did that I was incapable of holding back my pleasure from, and he’d pushed me to this point deliberately, knowing how much I loved it when he pretended to discipline me. “Not supposed to cum without your permission.”

His hand, still damp with the evidence of my pleasure, moved down to gently squeeze my ass. “So you know what I have to do now, right? Because you misbehaved?”

I sighed happily. “Mmm, _yes _.”__

__“Don’t move,” he said, and I felt the mattress shift as he got up from behind me and opened the closet door. I’d lovingly lined my various toys up on the floor in there earlier—it faintly occurred to me that I’d have to line up pegs along the closet wall to hang them up on—and I heard him crouch down to select an instrument. It wasn’t long at all before I heard the door shut and Ian walk over again, leaning over the bed to show me his weapon of choice before bracing it in his hand._ _

__It was one of my favorites, a hand-sized paddle tightly encased in faux leather. My first response was an appreciative tremble between my legs, and my second was, “What about the neighbors? What if someone hears?”_ _

__“Then they’ll hear that I’m disciplining my wife,” he said evenly, “like I have every right to do.” He caressed my butt for a moment, warming me up, and in spite of myself I couldn’t help but to shiver with excitement at his words. I knew on some level that I probably should’ve been more worried about that, considering where we were, but my head swam with his touches and how casual he was with his control over me, and I decided to worry about the politics of it later._ _

__Ian’s hand withdrew, and I heard the distinctive _smack_ of the paddle against his palm. “Keep your legs apart, stay completely still, and if I hear you complain, I’ll—I’ll gag that smart mouth of yours. The more obedient you are, the less I’ll have to punish you. Am I clear?”_ _

__My heart thumped against my chest from the firm tone in his voice alone. “Y-yes, sir.”_ _

__“Good. I think twenty strokes is fair. And I suggest you count.” I squeezed my eyes shut; just him _talking_ about spanking me shouldn’t have made me this impossibly wet, but somehow it always did._ _

__Right away, I felt the first firm swat land on my right cheek. A little sound escaped me, more from surprise than from pain. “One.” He followed with a harder one on the other side— “Two”—and then took a step back, probably to take a good look at his handiwork. He had an excellent view of my reddening ass and of my pussy, which was likely starting to drip at this point. Instead of delivering another blow, he chose to pace back and forth a little, his gaze still boring through me and his hands almost certainly folded behind his back. He was pacing purely to drag it out, to kill me with the anticipation, and goddamn if it wasn’t working. Even on the carpet, his footsteps still thumped in my ears, and I squirmed helplessly under his watchful eyes. I considered whimpering for him to end the torment, but I decided against it and held my tongue between my teeth._ _

__He took a step towards me, and there were several smacks-- “Three, four, _five, six_ ,”-- on both sides in rapid succession. He pulled the paddle back while I recovered, reaching over to comfortingly stroke my hair while I panted, no doubt aware that my chest was heaving and my fingers and toes were curled. He raised the instrument in the air, giving me a moment to prepare, and I heard the _swish_ as it came down to give me four more hard strokes. I was already shivering like crazy-- I could acutely feel the vibrations from his strokes traveling to my pussy-- but the thought that he was hitting so hard, so ruthlessly and mercilessly, made my whole body shudder. “Ten.”_ _

__“Good girl,” I heard, and with his free hand, he trailed a finger slowly down my spine and onto my soaking wet lips. “Halfway done. Look at how wet you are. You just love when I can do whatever I want to you, don’t you?” He rubbed up and down my slit with the fingers that had been inside me just a minute ago; I practically sobbed into the pillow at the much-needed friction, and he continued, “You can’t hide anything from me, Laura honey. I see how much you love it when I punish you.” Torturously lightly, his finger grazed my swollen G spot, and my eyes rolled back in pleasure. He definitely felt me clench hard around his fingers, because I felt him pause and then withdraw his hand to pull down the zipper of his jeans. “Fuck it,” he growled, and tossed the paddle to the side; I watched it bounce on the mattress in front of me. I only felt the tip of his cock brushing my entrance for a second before he slid inside me with one hard, _amazing_ stroke._ _

__He stopped himself before he got too deep, but he was buried almost all the way inside me, and I frantically squeezed my inner muscles and mewled in appreciation of the much-needed friction. As he started thrusting agonizingly slowly, I felt his hand against the back of my head, grabbing a fistful of my ponytail as he hissed, “ _Fuck_ that’s good.” Every time he moved an inch, it felt like an orgasm in itself; I was so soaking wet, I needed this so badly. My pussy tightened hard around him without any particular rhythm, and I couldn’t tell whether I was cumming or just drowning in the pleasure. Ian thrusted harder and harder, even rougher than he usually was, but I could definitely take it and I used my small bit of leverage to push back towards him, begging for more. His fist loosened around my scalp and I felt his hand trembling against my upper back, and it was evident that he was enjoying this just as much as I was. He must’ve been trying his best to last, but when he brushed against my G-spot and I cried out unashamedly into the pillow, that quickly put an end to his efforts._ _

__He grabbed my hips and thrust hard one, two, three times, filling me up with warm, gooey liquid. He stayed inside me for a few moments afterwards, leaning forward and panting near my ear, recovering along with me. Eventually I felt him slowly slide his cock out and get back up, letting me lay there and enjoy the trance he’d put me in, probably noticing the drop of his cum sliding out and down my inner thigh but not saying anything. My whole body felt warm and pleasantly tingly, and my mind still soared, relishing the feelings of my stinging ass and the cum that Ian had marked me with. I felt a soft, familiar throw blanket drape over me and then the pillows being gently pulled out from under me. “There’s my good girl,” I heard him say above me in a gentle tone that was far removed from his rough, urgent voice from just a minute ago. He climbed into bed next to me, tucking the blanket under my arms so I was wrapped in it and gently stroking my hair. “There we go, Laura, you’re such a good girl. You did such a good job for me, sweetie.”_ _

__Ian folded me up in his arms, and I rested with my head against his chest, relaxed by the steady beating of his heart and his hand idly stroking my lower back, for what felt like a calm, floating eternity. “You’re all mine, baby,” I heard him murmur into my ear. “All, all mine, and I’ll take care of you for as long as I live.”_ _

__Those words, which would’ve comforted me any other day, instead felt like a heavy stone dropping in my heart. “D-don’t talk like that.”_ _

__“Why? I-- oh. Oh, honey, you know I didn’t mean it like that-- I-- I meant--” He pulled back slightly to look at my face._ _

__“I know, I know what you meant, but can you maybe just…” The happy reverie was gone, and I tried to quiet the tiny storm of panic forming in my chest. “Think about where we are? They don’t even see me as a person here, Ian, they think Alice and I are just your property.”_ _

__“I know, honey, I know, but you know that’s not how I see you. I-- I promise nothing’s gonna change just because of where we stay.”_ _

__“And what about that whole “Godly desires” thing?” It was getting harder and harder to breathe, my chest constricted with panic. “God, I didn’t even think about it until now, but they’ll let you pick favorites, Ian. If it slips in that you love one of us more than the other, they’ll let you do that, they’ll _encourage_ you to. And what if they want you to have a third wife? What if they show you some hot young woman and they’re like, hey, if you wanna stay here--”_ _

__“Shh, shh, no, honey. None of that is gonna happen. Okay if I hold you?” I nodded, just trying to breathe steadily, and he wrapped his arms tightly around me. “None of that is gonna happen, baby. We’re only here for a week, honey, if even that. Just long enough to figure out a plan about where we’re going. Just think of this like an, uh, like a short vacation. Not a fun one, yeah, but it’s where life took us, so we’ll just rest here for a little bit and then take off.”_ _

__I felt tears sting my eyes, and when I buried my face in his shirt, he undid my braid and ran his hands through my hair comfortingly. “Maybe we’ll head somewhere pretty, like maybe-- uh-- Cancun, how’s that sound? Spend some time on the beach, run among the wild iguanas?” I nodded, taking deep breaths; feeling that I’d calmed down a bit, he got up, flicked the lights off, and wrapped me up in his arms again. “Sleep tight, my gorgeous little wife,” he whispered, and kissed me on the forehead. “We’ll start making our plan tomorrow.” It didn’t take long for the exhaustion and the comfort of my new husband to set in, and soon I fell into a restless sleep._ _


	5. Chapter Five (Alice)

It had taken some work, but I'd managed to fix up the bedroom to make it feel more welcoming, like home. Laura and I had spent hours scrubbing the floors and cleaning off the dingy furniture in the home/trailer, going so far as to wash all the curtains in the bathtub and dry them in the backyard. We'd done this cleaning in a scramble the day after we married Ian, and I'd had an extra night to myself to straighten up my bedroom because of the schedule.

Ian had brought the TV stand and the TV into the sitting room so we could all watch together. All we got was whatever we could pick up with the rabbit ears, but Ian was good with maneuvering the antennae so that after dinner, we got decent enough reception to watch -- and ridicule -- FOX and CNN. 

Ian switched off the TV after a short piece about the mystery of the current whereabouts of Dr. Ian Malcolm. He then cuddled us at his sides.

Laura was first to speak. "It sounds like they're looking for you, Ian."

"Pretty persistently," I added.

"All they want are media interviews." There was frustration in Ian's voice. "And, well, the Dean may have a point since I didn't show up for fall semester, but once he gets the letter I sent him, he'll be okay."

Laura and I exchanged a quick glance, but Ian said no more, and we fell into silence.

At last, Ian squeezed our hands, and, kissing Laura on the head, moved to get up from the couch. "Time for bed." He held onto my fingers for a moment, before I let go and dropped my hand to my side. Standing awkwardly, I hugged Laura and mumbled, "goodnight." I dropped my gaze and avoided her eyes, feeling suddenly embarrassed. I reminded myself that this was no different from the casual way we'd managed our relationship in Austin, as I headed down the hallway to my bedroom, hearing Ian's footsteps close behind.

In the bedroom, I discarded my prairie dress quickly and got into bed, covering myself with the quilt. I gave Ian a faint mischievous smile. He took a moment longer to get undressed, keeping his back to me coyly. I took advantage of the moment to admire his back muscles - how he stayed so fit living the life of an academic was beyond me. Ian climbed into bed beside me, interrupting my thoughts. He pulled the quilt over us both and me towards him in one move.

"Alice, my Alice..." Ian murmured, nuzzling my cheek. I felt goosebumps rise along my neck and upper shoulders. I let Ian take the lead, moving from nuzzling my cheek to kissing my neck, holding and gently stroking my back. I sighed contentedly, and Ian growled against my collarbone, gripping me by the waist. He rolled me on top of him.

I inhaled sharply and grasped onto the pillow on which Ian rested his head, steadying myself. He paused for a moment while I caught my breath, holding my gaze with smoldering, heavy-lidded eyes. Before I could think he'd dipped his head down and I felt my breath catch as his tongue gently teased my right nipple. "Ahh -- mmmnnhhh..." I heard myself sigh and gasp with pleasure.

I shifted my weight so I could grasp Ian's shoulders, but was interrupted by the sensation of his palm cupping my lower left butt cheek. I froze for just a second before relaxing against him again, but he had felt my muscles tense, and squeezed me in his arms as he chuckled softly against my nipple.

Right as I found my breath, I felt Ian's fingers tentatively move lower; he very, very gently separated the lips and ran one finger along the inside of my wetness. I squirmed against him in response, letting a moan escape from my lips. Ian acknowledged me with a soft grunt as he moved his attention from the right nipple to the left. I continued to writhe against him as he found just the right soft lapping pattern in just the right spot, making me shiver with pleasure.

"Ohhhh--ahh--Ian--" I gasped, trying and failing to maintain my composure. Instinctively I arched my back, pushing my breast against him, encouraging rougher touch. Briefly, it flashed through my mind that it had once taken over a year for another man to figure out exactly what pressed my buttons like this -- but I was sidetracked when Ian broke his kiss from my breast and nuzzled against my neck, kissing me deeply and softly. The familiar goosebumps prickled across my upper arms and shoulders again. My mind wandered once more, this time to worry fleetingly about hickies. I turned my cheek to his and squeezed his shoulder; finally he came up for air. His fingers still gently massaged that most sensitive spot, adjacent to the soft right inner lip.

He caught me in an open-mouthed kiss and found my tongue with his. He made me shiver by flicking my lower lip with his tongue the same way he'd been teasing my nipples. By now I could feel my muscles shaking, and I drew myself up to his shoulders, relaxing a little against him. I let out a small, frustrated groan.

"What's the matter, Alice honey?" Ian nipped my shoulder, a slight note of concern in his voice.

"N--nothing's the matter, Ian." I drew in a shallow breath. "It's just -- I mean, I w--"

"Oh, I know what you want." Ian's tone had shifted from concerned to amused. I felt him grin against me. "Tell me, Alice, baby," he whispered in my ear, slowing down the gentle stroking that was making me so antsy.

I grunted softly in frustration, exhaling against his neck and thrusting my hips against him in futile protest. Why did he have to make it so difficult? "I want." I whispered in his ear, "I want you to--to--kiss my nipples while you touch me." I rushed the words out breathlessly, feeling my cheeks warm up.

"That's my girl, Alice." Ian found my lips with his and kissed me hard. "I'll do more than kiss them..." I could hear the grin in his voice as he lowered his head and swirled his tongue around my right nipple, nipping it gently with his teeth. I shivered and shifted my weight; we took a moment to reposition ourselves so that we could lay together comfortably. I cradled his head in my arms on the pillow, making sure I was close enough to bury my face in his hair. Finally settled in, Ian reached down and cupped my butt cheek again momentarily; he then resumed his steady massaging movements down below. At the same time, he took my nipple into his mouth, his tongue teasing it with just the right amount of roughness.

"Ah!" I yelped as I felt a jolt of exquisite pleasure. _Is this really happening?_ Almost as if he knew I was overthinking things, Ian's hand which had been gripping my waist moved up to my shoulder and he squeezed. He broke his lips away from my breast to whisper huskily, "Just go with it, sweetheart."

That was the encouragement I needed to finally relax. I slackened my body against Ian's and drew myself closer to him, kissing his temple then dropping my face into the shiny curls at the top of his head. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, reveling in the leathery, spicy scent that was uniquely Ian. Moving one hand to the base of his neck, I grasped onto a handful of hair and gently pulled. I grinned against him.

I felt Ian's concentration break for a moment when I pulled his hair, but he quickly recovered and resumed loving my body with a husky grunt. I couldn't help but start to pant and squirm, moving my hips in time with his fingers so that he would stroke me just the way I needed. "Iannn..." I moaned. "Aaahhhhuuummmmmm..."

Ian squeezed me close and pressed his cheek to the quivering, hard nipple he'd just been licking. "Don't hold it back, Alice," he whispered, nuzzling the nipple. "I want to hear you... I want to hear how crazy I make you." Before I could respond he had shifted himself under me so that he could focus on the left breast. "Uunnnnhhhh..." I moaned. He flicked his tongue across the taut nipple. I moaned even louder.

Ian pulled back momentarily and pressed his cheek to my chest. "Shhh, Alice honey... Just a little quieter... The walls are thin here, love..."

 _He's right about that_ , I thought, remembering back to the previous night. I had heard a lot of noises coming from across the hall -- enough that at times, it almost felt like I was in Laura's room with them. For a moment, I thought of Laura overhearing us from her room -- knowing what was happening right at that moment, like I had last night -- and I felt suddenly shy and a bit self conscious. I felt a moan rising in my throat, as Ian had not stopped, but I swallowed it and pushed the thought out of my mind. It's not like Laura was under the impression we were playing board games in here tonight.

Feeling newly freed to enjoy the moment, I refocused on Ian and the way he was stroking and licking me so tenderly, wanting me to feel good, wanting us to feel good together. I sighed inwardly, and my mind wandered back to the wedding night, where Laura and I were both in bed with him. I remembered the pure pleasure and joy at being with us both that he showed, with no restraint -- his utter glee at cuddling us both in his arms; then, finishing a long-awaited lovemaking session with Laura before turning to me, as ready as though he had not just fucked Wife #1. He reveled in giving me the same loving attention that he'd given her then... That he was giving me _now_ .... alone in my room...

At last, my thoughts and Ian's persistence with teasing my nipples and stroking my most secret, sensitive spot led to the inevitable, and I tensed my muscles against him, again burying my face in his hair. "Uhh... uhh... ahhh..." I moaned as I thrust my hips against him unabashedly; I couldn't help myself.

"Yes, that's it, sweetheart..." Ian whispered huskily, my nipple still between his lips. "Unhh... Alice, baby..." It was almost imperceptible, but at that moment he pressed his fingers firmly in place, against that magic spot, while at the same time licking my nipple with several rough, goosebump-inducing strokes. I was ready, I was so ready, and I felt my shoulders and thighs clench just before Ian repositioned his grip on me, holding me in place while I writhed against him, my groin aflame with urgent desire. Only a couple more of the rough strokes on my nipple, and that was it...

"Unnhhh...unhhh..." I squeezed my eyes shut, and couldn't help but try to stifle the moans, thinking fleetingly of the paper-thin walls --

" _Yesss, girl_ ..." Ian sighed and I could feel his grin as he pressed himself against me, pinching my left nipple with his free hand. I felt my body tense and release once, twice and again, before I let out a loud, sobbing moan and collapsed against Ian, clutching handfuls of his hair loosely in my fists. Ian lay still under me, nuzzling my breast with his cheek and stroking my back, waiting for the aftershocks to pass.

When I had laid still in his arms for a while, Ian squeezed my shoulders. "Ohh, oh, Alice, my girl, my Alice..." He whispered, sending a chill down my spine. I felt him begin to move out from under me, and I was forced to let go of his hair. He assumed a lounging position on his side, guiding me into his arms, cuddling my body against his. I could feel his hardness pressing against me. He grasped me by the shoulders. My breasts were nearly flattened against his chest, and he moved one hand down my back and then brushed it back up along my side, cupping the underside of my left breast in his palm. He massaged the nipple slowly with his thumb. "You love this, don't you --" he pinched the swollen nipple between his fingers, "-- don't you fuckin' love this, Alice, honey..." 

Unable to form words, I gasped in response. Ian nudged his left knee against my thighs, encouraging me to move. I followed his guiding movements, realizing he was steering me onto my knees. I shivered in anticipation; my body always craved deep penetration after having had such satisfaction. He settled into position on his knees behind me, grasping hold of my thighs. "Ready, Alice, sweetheart?" He was leaning over me, whispering in my ear. I could tell by his tone that it didn't matter if I were ready or not, he was going to --

"Ahh! Ian!" I exclaimed when he first nudged inside me, hesitating a moment. He paused to take a breath and reposition his grip on my waist and hips. Before I could grip the pillows, he'd pushed himself all the way into me, inhaling sharply at the wet, slick softness he'd thrust himself into.

"Ahh -- ahh -- fuuck, Alice," Ian panted, his cheek pressed against mine, his breath hitching. I could hear how turned on he was when he growled and nipped at my earlobe. "So -- so fucking...ahhh... wet and ah, soft... Ohh, _Alice...Uhhhnnnnhhhh, girl_ ..." I felt Ian's hips start and stop a couple of times as he struggled to find and establish a mutually satisfying rhythm.

"Yess, baby," I whispered, as he finally settled for quick, sharp strokes. "Feels so good, Ian... I love it when you fuck me like this after I cum..."

"Unnh, Alice... You fucking drive me crazy girl you know that..." Ian straightened up and grasped ahold of my high ponytail, gently jerking my head back towards him as he increased his pace. I could feel his thighs shaking now, and his breathing was erratic as he reached the point of no return. I felt his body tense against mine, and he gripped my ponytail tighter than before. "Uuunnnhhh... Ahhhh... _Oh, fuuuuuck... Alice_ ..." I felt Ian stiffen against me, and he grasped onto my hips hard. He bucked against my backside, instinctively pushing in as far as he could go. Since we were in doggie I could feel him nudging past my cervix; I felt the heat spreading quickly far back in there as Ian came inside me, shivering against me and moaning loudly, reveling in the relieving sensation of four or five rhythmic, satisfying eruptions deep into the warm soft wetness.

Panting heavily, Ian's muscles relaxed and he gently pushed me onto the bed, rolling onto his side so as not to drop his weight on me. I was still breathing hard when he gathered me into his arms, kissing my damp forehead and brushing a stray lock of hair behind my right ear. Affectionately, he squeezed me and pressed his body against mine.

"Alice, my girl, my brilliant little psychologist." Ian squeezed my shoulders. "What am I going to do with you, my wicked girl." At first I bristled at Ian's words, then I recognized this teasing as likely something he'd picked up from fooling around with Laura. 

"Well, for starters, you can refrain from calling me 'little psychologist'," I teased him back, nuzzling my face against his neck. The "little" routine wouldn't work with me...

"Hey, hey, Alice honey." Ian tipped my chin towards his face, then leaned in for a firm kiss in the lips. "I kid out of love." He gripped me tightly, and I struggled against him, but he held me in place. His hands wandered up my back to my ponytail, and he pulled the elastic out of my hair, loosening it around my shoulders and down my back. Immediately, his hands were in my hair, stroking it and running his fingers through it. I shivered at the feel of him toying with my hair, feeling his fingertips brush the sensitive skin on my scalp and neck.

Ian sighed to himself, grasping a handful at the crown of my head. I shivered at the rough touch. "Your hair's so soft." He wound a wavy lock around the opposite forefinger and pulled gently. "You should wear it down more often, Alice baby, it's so gorgeous. Look at this -- " he pulled at the lock of hair around his finger, brushing it against my cheek. "There's a red sheen in the light--"

I felt a rush of warmth in my cheeks. No one had ever heaped such praise on my body, before. I wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.

Sensing my discomfort, Ian drew me close and kissed me. "Sorry, sweetheart... You're just more -- more gorgeous than you know, love. These lips." He kissed me on the lips. "This hair..." He ran his open palm down my hair, resting his hand lightly on my shoulder blade. "These hips... These tits..."

"Ian, stop." I giggled nervously. Why was I resisting? In rehab they had taught us to be open to love, no matter the way, shape or form. If someone significant in our lives wanted to give their love, we should be open to receiving it. Without access to alcohol or weed in Phoenix, and with everything else that had happened in the past few days, I hadn't been as diligent with working on recovery as I had in Austin. Suddenly, guilt clutched at my chest, and I stiffened in Ian's arms, remembering all that I had to lose in sobriety with one moment of lapsed vigilance.

Ian brought my thoughts back to the present with a nip on my earlobe. "I'm so proud of you, Alice love, and I'll support you no matter what." I could not think of a verbal reply while my eyes teared up, and I pressed my body against his, encouraging him to hug me tightly. Knowing I loved deep pressure hugs especially when discussing distressing topics or during a crisis, Ian squeezed me hard with his upper body, hard enough that I was forced to exhale.

"Ian, ohh, love..." I was barely able to speak, even after I'd caught my breath. Ian let me regain my senses for a moment or two, then he gently gathered me in his arms and cradled me against his strong, broad chest, positioning my head against his shoulder. I snuggled up against his right side and he turned his neck to drop a kiss on my forehead.

"Shh, Alice honey," Ian stroked my hair as he whispered, his cheek against mine. "It's late, love, and tomorrow is another day." Ian could not stifle a yawn, and he tugged at me with his arm so that I would curl up along his side for sleep. I sat up and reached to the foot of the bed, grasping the freshly made blanket. I pulled it up to Ian's and my waists, feeling more ready for sleep with something covering us. Then, I snuggled up to Ian's side and reached my arm across him, cuddling him close. Ian sighed, a sound of sleepy happiness, as I let myself relax fully in his arms. "Goodnight, love," he murmured softly.


	6. Chapter Six (Laura)

My goal for the next day was to find a pet.

I missed the animals I used to care for at the reptile house back at the zoo; I knew they were taken care of, they probably didn’t even remember me after I’d been gone that long, but they were an important part of my world that I’d left behind. I’d probably never see them again, but I tried not to think about that. There were a lot of things in Phoenix that I couldn’t think about for too long— if I ruminated on how Alice and I were being treated, on how I was now one of the sister wives I used to shiver while reading about in books, I’d be nothing but angry, and I didn’t think Ian would be too thrilled if I were to run around ripping this whole damned compound apart and ruining his chance to be a happy little married family. So instead of stewing in our trailer, I decided to stew in the desert heat and find myself a nice little salamander or rattlesnake to keep and to give me something to focus on while I survived. Maybe I also needed something small around to look after, something more fragile and less protected than Alice and I had become. I probably shouldn’t have thought too much about that either.

After digging around for a bit, I found a little wooden box, which I wouldn’t be able to keep an animal in but which I could at least take one home with. Alice and I had been wearing our prairie dresses around the house—just for a couple of days, Ian said, in case Grant walked in—so I didn’t need to change clothes before I headed out. In the kitchen, Ian seemed to be trying to work the vintage gas stove, while Alice was lounging at the kitchen table with one of the books that was left for us on the trailer’s shelves. “Going out,” I said, giving Alice a sympathetic look; I wasn’t sure what that book was about, but it must not have been something that either of us would be thrilled about.

“I’d better not hear you peeling out of here in my car,” Ian said without looking away from the stove.

“I’m just going for a walk, Ian.”

“Well, don’t tire yourself out too much.” He turned and winked at me. “Your turn tonight.”

“Yeah, my turn for your dick timeshare. Alice, you want me to get dinner?”

“Let’s do it together,” she said. “Ellie told me she has some special herbs in her garden for us.”

“Sounds fun,” and I mustered a smile for her. “See you guys later.” As soon as I stepped outside, I felt my throat dry up. I was accustomed to the humidity of California, not the dry heat of this literally God-forsaken desert. It was hard to pick a direction to start exploring, because the entire landscape looked the same. There were some houses, some trailers like ours, a few little fields of crops, and boundless desert dotted with the occasional small, miserable patch of green. No wonder everyone in Phoenix was so batshit, I’d have gone out of my mind too if I had to look at this every minute of every day.

Instead of heading towards the flat expanse of desert, I just walked near the row of homes; despite all of them looking occupied, the entire area was oddly quiet, especially when I considered how many people were packed into every trailer and how many little kids each of the residents had. Occasionally I heard a voice or two, but not many, and not loudly. Maybe they just took “speak when spoken to” really literally. As endless as the row of dingy little houses looked, it eventually came to an end after a walk that seemed much longer than it probably was. I was surrounded on almost all sides by a vast sea of dust, and there were very few clouds in the sky to spare me from the blazing sun. Instead of squinting my eyes and looking forward, I kept walking with my eyes turned to the ground, strolling slowly and watching out for little holes or scrub brushes that any animals could be hiding in. 

It was easy to lose time when nothing around me moved and the heat suffocated me from all sides, so I had no idea how long I was out. It wasn’t like I needed to know anyway—I had nothing better to do at home sweet trailer, and if these people wanted me to obey any curfew, they’d have to come and make me. I couldn’t cover too much ground because I didn’t want to lose sight of the compound, so I very thoroughly searched the area I could stay in without getting lost. There were a few cacti with little birds on them, but I had no interest in those. I caught sight of three or four little critters, but they slid back into their holes in the ground so quickly that I could barely tell if they were snakes or thick-tailed lizards. Finally, I happened to see a tiny path in the sand that looked to be the tracks of a rattlesnake. Keeping my steps as light as I could, I followed it to its origin and found a sandy-colored Mojave rattlesnake, completely still and basking in the sun. Very quietly and deliberately, I scooped a bit of sand into my wooden box and lowered it in front of the snake; it didn’t seem disturbed at all. As gently as possible, I scooped my hand under its tail, encouraging it forward. Just as I’d hoped, it darted forward and slithered right into my clutches. Before the rattlesnake had any second thoughts, I snapped the lid shut and snatched it up into my arms, silently cheering to myself. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel the snake squirming around inside the box at all. Anything that docile would make a wonderful pet for a few days. Maybe I’d go out again and catch a desert mouse for its dinner.

Packing the box under my arm, I sighed heavily and turned back around. I’d explore the rest of the compound later, when it was overcast or less overbearingly hot. What I needed was to throw this awful dress off and sit in front of an air conditioner, or in the shower—thankfully we had both of those, small and dingy as they were. Anyway, I didn’t want to think about what happened to lone women who walked around this place for too long. If someone found me out there, maybe they’d escort me back to Ian, like a lost child back to her dad. Or I’d get lectured or prayed over or something, to cure me of my rebellion. Or some sexually-frustrated guy would grab me in his truck, and everyone here would look at it as my just desserts for being a heathen. Another thing not to think about.

I was briefly worried about not being able to tell which of the trailers was ours and about what would happen if I knocked on the wrong door—God, I hated having to be so cautious about everything I did—but one advantage of there being no breeze out there was that my footprints were undisturbed, and I could follow them back to where I’d come from. After another seemingly interminable trudge, I got to the trailer with the hint of a garden visible behind it; that was definitely our neighbors’. The heat had started to get to my brain, and it took me a second to notice that a woman in a dress similar to mine was standing in front of the Grants’ home. She was the one who I’d noticed was thin and jumpy-looking, like she’d lost so much weight from springing to action whenever any man demanded anything of her. She had a pile of denim clothes under one arm and was reaching up to a clothesline with the other, her arms just barely long enough to reach it. By her feet was a big metal pail—I could only imagine how hot that had gotten. The poor woman must have been roasting from all angles. 

“Good afternoon,” I cautiously volunteered as I walked closer to her. She turned her head to look at me with wide eyes, and then gave me a wide, nervous-looking smile.

“Good afternoon, Laura!” she called back. “How are you enjoying Phoenix?”

“It’s… interesting,” I said, not wanting to offend this deer-like woman who hadn’t yet given me a chance to think badly of her. “Pretty hot out here. I bet your clothes will dry pretty fast.”

“They definitely will!” she tittered, and reached down to grab a prairie dress from the pail, wringing the water out of it. Only then did I notice the huge pile of clothes at her feet, in addition to the one in her hands. There’s no way one woman could wear that many dresses. Or—wait—

“Are you doing everyone’s laundry?” I asked incredulously. “Everyone in the house?” She nodded, straining up to pin the dress to the clothesline. “With one person, that’ll take hours—in this weather?”

“Oh, I don’t mind!” She quickly finished pinning the dress up and waved her hands. “The Prophet’s newest wife gets laundry duty, that’s just the way it is. It helps me have a servant’s heart!” She smiled widely again, and I honestly couldn’t tell whether it was forced or not. 

The air conditioner could wait. “Let me help you out.” I grabbed a dark purple dress from the pile—not surprisingly, it reeked of sweat—and dunked it in the water pail, swishing it around a little.

“You don’t have to!” The woman grabbed my arm, but not hard enough to convince me that she actually wanted me to stop. “It’s my duty, I can do it myself!”

“Don’t worry about it, honey, I don’t have anything better to do.” I turned my box upside down so the rattlesnake wouldn’t get the lid open and escape, and started to wring out the dress. This couldn’t have been an efficient way to clean clothes, but it’s not like the method was her decision. 

She stood and stared at me for a minute, and then slowly put a long-sleeved shirt into the pail. “If you insist, Laura. I do appreciate it.”

“Yeah, I insist.” I’d rather not have been doing this, I could feel the sweat coming down my body in waterfalls, but I was sure Grant would be pissed at me for helping his wife, so I was happy to do it. “God, I feel bad that you remember my name but I can’t remember yours.”

“Ruth Grant,” she said, and lifted a finger as if to correct me, but thought better of it. It took me a second to realize that I probably shouldn’t have been using “God” that way, not here. 

“You’re married to the Prophet, huh? How do you like him?”

“It’s such an honor to be the helpmeet of such a holy man,” she gushed immediately. “Actually, you must know how it feels to be married to a Dinosaur Man. We have that in common now, don’t we?”

Those words were yet another jarring reminder of the surrealism of my situation, but I couldn’t let my head start spinning now. “Yeah, I do love Ian a lot. I’m happy to be with him and Alice.”

“You’ll get an even bigger family than the two of them soon! The Prophet will find another godly young woman, and then another, and then another, for your husband. He’ll have so many wives, and you’ll have so many sisters. That’s what a Dinosaur Man deserves.”

I made a concerted effort not to vomit into the bucket of soapy water. “Is—is that how it works? The Prophet arranges marriages for everyone?”

“Not always, but in your case, I’m sure he will.” Ruth took a break to wipe her brow with her sleeve. “Special, godly men only deserve the most special, godly wives. And plenty of them.”

The thought of that made me need to sit down; I splashed a little of the laundry water on my arms while I sat. “So… what exactly is a Dinosaur Man? They fulfill some kind of prophecy, right?”

She nodded. “The Dinosaur Men are the only two men who have ever seen the living proof that God created the Earth. They’ve witnessed dinosaurs still living among us, which proves that evolution never happened and the dinosaurs never died out. The Prophet says that, when the Second Dinosaur Man comes, the two of them will spread the word throughout the earth that they can prove that the Lord created the world. The lie of evolution will die once and for all, and the world will repent of all its sin and turn back to God.” It sounded like something she’d heard and recited a million times, because she probably had. I could understand why a cult out in the middle of nowhere would believe a load of shit like that, but why would a world-famous paleontologist teach it to them? I’d thought this was just a dinosaur-worshipping operation, but it had somehow managed to get a million times weirder than that. 

Of course, I tried my best not to let my face give away what I was thinking. “So our husbands are the only people who’ve seen dinosaurs, and that proves young-earth creationism? Right?”

“That’s a secular way to put it, but yes. Oh, the Prophet is so excited that the day has finally come. Every day at church, he tells us about the glorious things that will happen when the Second Dinosaur Man finally arrives.”

That was exactly what Ian’s ego needed: a whole church full of people telling him how amazing he was. “How long have you been waiting for Ian—I mean, the other Dinosaur Man?”

“The Prophet has been waiting since—Oh, he can tell you himself!” She stood up straight, gave that indecipherable wide smile again, and looked behind me. “Welcome back, dear!”

“Good afternoon, Ruth,” I heard from almost right next to my ear, and I jumped and turned around, to see an unfortunately familiar face in a cowboy hat surveying me and his wife. “Laura. Shouldn’t you be helping around your new home, instead of out here asking questions?”

“I’m actually helping around your home. This is way too much laundry for one person.”

Unexpectedly, he smirked back at me. “Well, how about that. Only three days here and you’re already learning a woman’s duties. I knew being here would make a good impression on you, didn’t I, Ruth?” Ruth nodded eagerly, not looking at me at all. “Ian must be so pleased at how quickly you’ve fallen into line.”

I stared back at him for a moment, expressionless, taking in all the creases on his tanned face and his squinted eyes, and I slowly reached down and grabbed my box off the ground. I stared at him for another few seconds, seeing his smirk fade, and then in one motion I opened the box and dumped the rattlesnake onto him. It landed on his dust-coated shoulders and immediately reared up, baring its fangs and hissing, all of its docility gone. I dropped the box and ran off towards our trailer like a bat out of hell, and as much as I’d have loved to see the look on Grant’s face, the sounds of his flailing and Ruth’s shrieks were enough to be satisfied with. When I flung the door open, ran inside and slammed it behind me, Ian and Alice both jumped a little. “What the hell just happened?” Ian asked, getting up from the table and letting go of Alice’s hand.

“Absolutely nothing.” I unbuttoned my dress and tossed it off, folding it over the top of an armchair. “I’m just gonna keep this off for a while, I don’t think Grant will come anywhere near here for a while.”

“Hell, if you can keep him away, I don’t care how you do it.” He looked out the window, and I couldn’t tell if he saw what was going on with Grant, but he rolled his eyes and sat back down at the table nonetheless.

“Laura, you didn’t bring back any lizards or anything, did you?” Alice piped up. “It looked like you were going snake hunting or something with that box. Please tell me you didn’t bring anything back.”

“Well, I didn’t bring one into the house, at least. You guys mind if I take a shower?”

“No, go ahead.” She opened up the front of her dress and moved it back and forth, trying to fan some air onto her chest. “I’ll probably take one soon too. Oh, and you should put that dress in the hamper if you’re not using it. The Grants said they’ll let us use their washing machine.”

“They have a washing machine?” The realization dawned on me, and I rushed to the bathroom wordlessly, locking the door behind me to contain my rage to just that one little room. That stupid fucker Grant was right about at least one thing—maybe I shouldn’t have been asking so many questions. The less I knew about this place while we were there, the better.


End file.
